Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/enjoymentofarchiOOhamlrich 


THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 


I  »•• 


pj   O 

-2 
&  w 
at 

W 
H 


.THE 

ENJOYMENT  OF 
ARCHITECTURE 


BY 

TALBOT  FAULKNER  HAMLIN 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW   YORK 

DUFFIELD    &   COMPANY 

1916 


H2 


•••  • 


Copyright,  1916, 
by  Duffield  &  Company 


370?  f& 


To  H.  B.  H.,  M.  F.  H.,  and  A.  T).  F.  H.  this 
book  is  dedicated  with  sincere  gratitude  for 
their  constant  aid  and  inspiration. 


3707-j,, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    The  Appeal  of  Architecture 3 

II.    Laws  of  Form  in  Architecture 29 

III.  The  Architect  's  Materials 73 

IV.  The  Architect's  Materials  (continued)     .    .  Ill 
V.^The  Decorative  Material  of  Architecture    .  137 

VI.  -  The  Criticism  of  Ornament 184 

VII.    Planning       220 

VIII.  .  „The  Meaning  of  Style 263 

IX.    The  Social  Value  of  Architecture     ....  298 

Epilogue 335 

Bibliography     .    .    * 337 

Index 341 


List  of  Illustrations 

Saint  Peter's,  Rome,  Italy  (Interior) Frontispiece 

„   .                   ■               _     M                                                        OPPOSITE  PAGE 

Colosseum,  Rome,  Italy 22 

Pennsylvania  Station,  New  York  City  (Concourse)....  26 

United  States  Capitol,  Washington,  D.  C 32 

Theseum  (Temple  of  Theseus),  Athens,  Greece 40 

Vendramini  Palace,  Venice,  Italy 46 

Cathedral,  Amiens,  France  (Interior) 56 

Public  Library,  Boston,  Mass 66 

Pantheon,    Paris,    France 78 

Santa  Sophia,  Constantinople,  Turkey 90 

Carlisle  Cathedral,  England  (Two  Bays  of  the  Choir)  . .  102 

Santa  Sophia,  Constantinople,  Turkey  (Interior) no 

Santa  Maria  dei  Miracoli,  Venice,  Italy  (Interior)....  116 

Westminster  Hall,  London,  England   (Interior) 120 

Pantheum,  Rome,  Italy   (Interior) 126 

Vestibule  to  the  "Hall  of  the  Two  Hundred,"  Palazzo 

Vecchio,  Florence,  Italy 134 

Cloister,  Santa  Maria  della  Pace,  Rome,  Italy 134 

Tomb  of  Count  Ugo,  The  Badia,  near  Florence,  Italy..  144 

Cathedral,  Lincoln,  England   (Interior) 150 

Riccardi  Palace,  Florence,  Italy 158 

Water  Leaf,  Egg  and  Dart,  and  Anthemion  from  the 

Erectheum,    Athens,    Greece 170 

Roman   Acanthus    Frieze    from   the   Lateran   Museum, 

Rome   170 


ii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Cathedral,  Chartres,  France   (Transept  Porch) 178 

Cantoria,  Formerly  in  the  Cathedral,  Florence,  Italy 194 

Post-Office,  Eighth  Avenue  and  Thirty-Third  St.,  New 

York  City 202 

Door  of  the  Escuelas  Menores,  Salamanca,  Spain 208 

Door    of    the    Gardner-White-Pingree    House,    Salem, 

Mass * 212 

Saint  Peter's,  Rome,  Italy  (Exterior) 216 

Missouri  State  Capitol,  Jefferson  City,  Missouri  (State 

Stairway)     236 

Opera  House,  Paris,  France  (Grand  Stairway) 242 

Chateau  of  Maisons  Lafitte,  France 284 

Merchants  National  Bank,  Grinnell,  Iowa 294 

Hunting  Lodge,  Clemens werth,  Germany 294 

New  Office  Building,  New  York  City 330 

LINE  DRAWINGS  IN  THE  TEXT 

Fig.  Pagi 

1  The  National  Gallery,  London,  England 35 

2  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  Paris,  France 44 

3  Cathedral,  Chartres,  France 49 

4  Chapel   52 

5  Old  House  in  Kennebunk,  Maine 84 

6  Newton  Hall,  Near  Cambridge,  England 86 

7  Cathedral  of  Saint  Nazaire,  Carcassonne,  France...  100 

8  Harvard  House,  Stratford-on-Avon,  England 102 

9  Gothic  Ribbed  Vaulting 129 

10  The  Pendentive *30 

1 1  Mouldings    *43 

12  Temple  Gateway  at  Karnak,  Egypt 145 

13  A  Typical  Classic  Cornice J47 

14  The  Most  Common  Decorated  Mouldings 153 

15  Cornice  from  the  Wing  of  Francis  I  Chateau  of 

Blois,  France *59 


LINE  DRAWINGS  IN  THE  TEXT  iii 

16  Capital  from  Southwell  Minster,  England 177 

17  French   Gothic   Capitals. . . . , 179 

18  A  House  in  New  Haven 232 

19  Missouri  State  Capitol,  Jefferson  City,  Mo 236 

20  Plans  of  Amiens  Cathedral 248 

21  Plan  of  a  Library  and  Art  Gallery 254 

22  Plan  of  a  Library  and  Art  Gallery 256 

23  The   Final   Solution 259 

24  Two  Possible  Elevations  of  the  Scheme  Shown  in 

Figure   23 260 

25  Early  Cypriote  Ionic  Capital 275 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

Acknowledgments  are  due  to  Messrs.  Murphy 
and  Dana,  architects,  for  the  plan  of  the  house 
in  New  Haven;  to  Messrs.  Tracy  and  Swart- 
wout,  for  the  plan  and  the  drawing  of  the  State 
Stairway  of  the  Missouri  State  Capitol ;  to  Mr. 
Edwin  A.  Park,  for  the  cover  design;  to  Miss 
Genevieve  Hamlin,  for  the  illustration  of  the 
Karnak  gateway;  to  Mr.  Irving  Underhill,  for 
permission  to  publish  the  photograph  of  the 
Concourse  of  the  Pennsylvania  Station ;  to  Mrs. 
M.  E.  Hewitt  and  Miss  F.  R.  Johnston,  for  the 
photograph  of  the  New  York  Post-Office,  and  to 
the  Columbia  University  School  of  Architecture, 
for  the  use  of  its  collection  of  photographs  for 
illustrative  purposes. 


THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 


The  Enjoyment  of  Architecture 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTUBE 

The  days  are  swiftly  passing  when  to  the 
normal  American  art  was  valued  as  something 
distinctly  secondary  to  the  practical  matters  of 
life.  We  have  grown  into  the  precious  heritage 
of  appreciation,  and  music  and  painting  and 
sculpture  and  literature  bring  us  a  real  joy.  But 
there  is  one  enormous  source  of  artistic  pleasure 
of  which  too  few  are  as  yet  aware ;  there  is  one 
art  whose  works  confront  us  wherever  man 
lives,  which  all  too  many  of  us  daily  pass  blindly 
by.  That  source  is  to  be  found  in  the  buildings 
all  around  us ;  that  art  is  the  art  of  architecture. 
This  blindness  is  the  more  strange  since  new 
avenues  of  pleasure  are  constantly  opening  to 
one  who  has  even  a  slight  measure  of  appreci- 
ation of  architecture.  To  him  a  city  is  no  grey 
prison,  shutting  him  in  from  God  and  Nature ; 
it  is  rather  a  great  book  on  which  is  written 

3 


:|    TBE'ENJPYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

large  the  history  of  the  aspiration,  the  struggles, 
and  the  constant  striving  for  beauty  of  all  man- 
kind. To  him  a  building  may  no  longer  be 
merely  stone  and  brick  and  iron  and  wood;  it 
may  become  vital  with  beauty,  a  symphony 
thrilling  in  its  complex  rhythms  of  window  and 
door  and  column,  enriching  all  who  are  willing 
to  look  at  it  appreciatively  with  its  message  of 
beauty  or  peace  or  struggle. 

Architecture  is  of  all  the  arts  the  one  most 
continually  before  our  eyes.  To  hear  music  at 
its  best  we  must  go  to  concerts  or  operas  of  one 
kind  or  another;  to  enjoy  literature  we  must 
read,  and  read  extensively;  our  best  painting 
and  sculpture  are  segregated  in  museums  and 
galleries  to  which  we  must  make  our  pilgrim- 
ages, but  architecture  is  constantly  beside  us. 
We  live  in  houses  and  our  houses  may  be  works 
of  architecture.  We  work  in  office  buildings  or 
stores  or  factories,  and  they  may  be  works  of 
architecture.  Nine-tenths  of  our  lives  are  spent 
in  or  among  buildings,  yet  how  many  of  us  feel 
a  distinct  warmth  of  pleasure  as  we  pass  a 
beautiful  building?  How  many  of  us  give  one 
hour's  thought  a  month  to  the  beauty  or  ugli- 
ness, the  architectural  value,  of  the  buildings 


THE  APPEAL  OF  AECHITECTURE         5 

surrounding  us  ?  Wherever  there  is  the  slight- 
est attempt  to  make  a  building  beautiful,  there 
is  the  touch  of  architecture,  and  if  we  pass  by 
this  touch  unnoticed,  we  are  by  just  so  much 
depriving  ourselves  of  a  possible  element  of 
richness  in  our  lives. 

Architecture,  then,  is  an  art,  and  any  art  must 
give  us  pleasure,  or  else  it  is  bad  art,  or  we  are 
abnormally  blind :  and  to  architecture  as  an  art 
and  the  joy  it  brings  we  are  too  callous.  It  is 
the  constant  proximity  of  architecture  during 
our  entire  conscious  existence  that  has  blinded 
us  in  this  way.  We  forget  that  it  is  an  art  of 
here  and  now,  because  it  is  with  us  every  day, 
and  because  we  have  to  have  houses  to  live  in 
we  are  too  apt  to  think  of  them  solely  as  abiding 
places.  Therefore  we  think  of  architecture  as 
some  vague,  learned  thing  dealing  with  French 
cathedrals  or  Italian  palaces  or  Greek  temples, 
not  with  New  York  or  Chicago  streets  or  West- 
chester suburbs,  and  this  fallacious  doctrine  has 
strengthened  in  us  until  our  eyes  are  dulled  and 
our  minds  are  atrophied  to  all  the  beauty  that  is 
being  created  around  us  today,  and  we  lose  all 
the  fine  deep  pleasure  that  we  might  otherwise 
experience  from  our  ordinary  surroundings. 


6    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

This  pleasure  is  of  several  kinds  and  comes 
from  several  different  sources.  Many  of  us 
have  felt  its  call,  and,  unknowing,  turned  away, 
perhaps  perplexed.  We  feel  it  vaguely,  and 
accept  it  as  something  vague ;  with  strange  lack 
of  curiosity  we  have  never  tried  to  find  out  why 
we  choose  some  streets  to  walk  on  and  shun 
others.  We  can  be  sure  that  this  vague  feeling, 
if  it  is  real  and  worth  while,  will  not  die  on 
analysis,  like  a  flower  picked  to  pieces,  but  will 
rather,  as  we  examine  it,  take  on  definiteness 
and  poignancy  and  be  reborn  in  all  sorts  of  new 
ways. 

First  of  all  among  the  pleasures  that  archi- 
tecture can  give  is  that  which  anything  beauti- 
ful brings  to  an  understanding  heart,  which 
warms  the  whole  being,  and  sends  one  about  his 
work  gladder  and  stronger  and  better.  Then 
there  is  the  satisfaction  that  comes  from  the 
realization  that  a  thing  is  perfectly  fitted  for  the 
work  it  is  to  do,  a  satisfaction  akin  to  that  which 
the  engineer  feels  in  his  locomotive,  or  a  sailor 
in  his  vessel.  There  is,  besides,  the  pleasure  that 
comes  from  the  fact  that  good  architecture  is 
always  a  perfect  expression  of  the  time  in  which 
it  was  built,  not  only  of  that  time's  artistic  skill, 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE  7 

but  also,  if  it  is  interpreted  correctly,  of  its  re- 
ligion, its  government,  even  of  its  economic  and 
political  theories.  Still  another  pleasure  arises 
from  the  perception  of  the  specific  emotional 
tone  which  each  building  sounds,  from  the 
austere  power  of  an  armory  to  the  light  playful- 
ness of  a  good  cafe.  And  last  and  greatest  of 
all,  the  best  architecture  brings  us  real  inspira- 
tion, a  feeling  of  awestruck  peace  and  rever- 
ence, a  feeling  of  the  immense  glory  and  worth- 
whileness  of  things  that  comes  only  in  the 
presence  of  something  very  great  indeed. 

All  these  different  pleasures  and  more  are 
open  to  one  who  will  walk  our  streets  with  a 
seeing  eye  and  even  an  elementary  knowledge 
of  what  architecture  is,  what  it  is  striving  for, 
how  and  under  what  laws  it  works.  And  this 
knowledge  we  can  each  possess  at  a  trifling  cost 
of  time  and  study,  but  to  our  great  advantage. 
It  is  by  examining  these  pleasures  that  we  shall 
gain  a  clearer  understanding  of  precisely  what 
architecture  is,  and  of  how  we  can  obtain  such  a 
knowledge  of  it  as  to  enjoy  it  to  the  utmost  with 
no  lack  of  spontaneity  in  our  appreciation. 

The  first  kind  of  pleasure  we  have  mentioned 
is  that  which  comes  to  one  from  anything  beau- 


8    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

tiful.  It  is  one  of  the  hardest  of  all  to  analyze, 
for  it  is  the  deepest,  and  it  goes  so  far  into  dif- 
ficult questions  of  psychology  that  we  can 
only  give  examples  and  analogies.  This  joy  in 
the  pure  beauty  of  architecture  is  precisely 
similar  to  that  in  the  pure  beauty  of  music  or 
painting  or  poetry,  irrespective  of  the  intellec- 
tual content  of  that  music  or  painting  or  poetry. 
It  is  a  pleasure  primarily  of  the  senses,  but  in 
the  educated  man  it  touches  through  this  sensu- 
ous appeal  an  immense  category  of  intellectual 
thoughts  and  emotions.  It  is  a  pleasure  primar- 
ily exterior,  but  through  exterior  qualities  it 
touches  the  deepest  in  us.  It  is  a  thing  of 
rhythm,  of  balance,  of  form.  It  comes  from  the 
perception  of  anything  which  fulfills  certain 
innate  laws  of  beauty  that  are  well  nigh  uni- 
versal. It  is  irrespective  of  styles,  even  of  criti- 
cal discriminations ;  a  man  feels  it  in  looking  at 
the  Parthenon,  at  the  Cathedral  of  Amiens,  or 
at  the  Capitol  at  Washington.  He  may  feel  it 
as  thrillingly  in  a  colonial  farmhouse  or  in  an 
apartment  hotel  as  in  a  great  cathedral.  The 
confirmed  modernist  in  music,  if  he  is  at  all 
candid  with  himself,  feels  it  in  a  Bach  fugue; 
the  confirmed  secessionist  in  painting  feels  it  in 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE         9 

the  glorious  composition  of  a  Tintoretto  or  the 
blazing  colour  of  a  Rubens.  It  is  a  universal 
pleasure,  the  capacity  for  which  is  inborn  in 
every  normal  person,  and  it  is  always  aroused 
by  the  perception  of  anything  which  fulfills  cer- 
tain requirements  of  form  for  which  the  mind  is 
constantly  athirst.  It  is  the  satisfaction  of  this 
thirst  that  is  at  the  very  basis  of  all  artistic 
pleasure,  and  it  will,  therefore,  be  necessary 
to  understand  at  least  the  fundamentals  of  these 
requirements  of  form  in  order  to  have  any  real 
intelligent  appreciation  of  architecture. 

The  next  pleasure  which  architecture  gives 
us  arises  from  the  perception  that  a  building  is 
supremely  suited  to  its  purpose.  Everyone  has 
at  some  time  been  irritated  by  a  house,  which, 
though  beautiful,  was  nevertheless  so  built  that 
the  kitchen  odours  penetrated  everywhere;  or, 
perhaps,  by  a  theatre  full  of  charm  and  colour 
where  one  could  not  hear;  or  by  a  city  hall 
where  every  office  which  one  seeks  seems  at  the 
far  end  of  long  and  tortuous  hidden  corridors. 
In  buildings  such  as  these  the  architect  has 
failed,  at  least  partially,  and  the  irritation 
arises  as  much  from  his  failure  as  from  its 
actual  effects.     On  the  other  hand,  there  is 


10    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

always  a  soothing  satisfaction  in  a  library 
where  the  appearance  of  the  building  itself  ex- 
presses what  use  each  part  serves ;  or  in  a  sta- 
tion where  entrance  leads  to  waiting  room,  and 
waiting  room  to  ticket  office,  and  ticket  office  to 
trains,  direct  and  clear.  There  is  a  somewhat 
similar  satisfaction  about  a  bridge  where  every 
stone  and  every  girder  seems  to  do  its  work  per- 
fectly, with  each  smallest  part  necessary.  The 
satisfaction  that  one  feels  in  buildings  like  these 
is  entirely  due  to  the  architect 's  success  in  solv- 
ing his  problem  economically  and  well,  because 
architecture  must  always  be  based  upon  the 
most  careful  consideration  of  the  practical 
needs  of  our  complex  life. 

For  architecture  is  a  science  as  well  as  an  art, 
and  the  architect  must  not  only  build  beauti- 
fully, but  he  must  see  that  his  buildings  are 
strong  and  durable  and  efficient,  to  be  proof 
against  the  weather,  and  to  fulfill  all  the  prac- 
tical purposes  for  which  they  were  built.  Good 
architecture  must,  therefore,  be  always  sane 
and  practical.  Architecture  is  not  only  an  art 
of  cathedrals  and  tombs  and  monuments — 
though  even  these  must  be  built  to  stand  and 
endure — but  it  is  also  an  art  that  deals  with 


THE  APPEAL  OP  ARCHITECTURE        11 

every  phase  of  the  most  ordinary  businesses  of 
men.  Our  houses  must  be  as  convenient  and  as 
roomy  as  possible.  Our  office  buildings  must  be 
economical,  with  the  greatest  possible  renting 
space,  and  they  must  be  provided  with  all  the 
necessary  elevators  and  toilet  rooms  and  heat- 
ing apparatus.  Our  factories — for  even  fac- 
tories should  be  architectural — must  have  fresh 
air  and  floods  of  light,  and  be  so  constructed  as 
to  minimize  noise  and  vibration.  Our  theatres 
must  be  so  arranged  that  from  every  seat  there 
will  be  an  unobstructed  view  of  the  stage,  and 
no  echoes  or  undue  reverberation  to  destroy  the 
sound,  and  so  planned  that  in  case  of  accident 
the  theatre  can  be  emptied  in  the  shortest  pos- 
sible time. 

When  one  considers  that  architecture  em- 
braces every  one  of  these  points,  and  more ;  that 
plumbing  and  heating  and  electric  wiring  and 
ventilation  and  the  design  of  steel  columns  and 
girders  all  come  under  its  control,  it  is  not  likely 
that  he  will  accuse  it  of  being  an  art  esoteric 
and  aloof.  Indeed,  it  is  of  all  the  arts  the  one 
that  touches  life  at  the  greatest  number  of 
points;  the  architect  must  always  be  in  our 
midst,  hard-headed,  clear-thinking,  careful,  to 


12    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

fill  our  daily  needs,  whatever  they  are ;  to  build 
dwellings  and  shops  and  railroad  stations  and 
factories  and  theatres  and  churches ;  to  see  that 
each  is  as  useful  and  as  convenient  as  science 
can  make  it ;  and  then  to  crown  it  with  beauty, 
to  be  a  constant  delight. 

There  are  always  these  two  factors  in  good 
architecture,  the  practical  and  the  beautiful,  the 
scientific  and  the  artistic;  and  the  great  archi- 
tect must  be  both  dreamer  and  engineer.  In- 
deed, it  is  from  the  constant  interreaction  of 
these  two  sides  of  architecture  that  its  peculiar 
value  arises.  For  instance,  an  architect  may 
have  aesthetic  ideals  which  would,  left  to  them- 
selves, work  out  into  thin  delicacy,  or  an  ana- 
chronistic grandeur,  or  in  some  other  equally 
fantastic  way.  When  such  an  architect  comes 
actually  to  design  a  building,  he  is  instantly 
confronted  by  such  a  host  of  intensely  modern 
necessities  that  the  final  result  must  be  modern, 
must  be  expressive  of  his  own  time  and  his  own 
nation. 

Let  us  look  for  an  example  of  the  results  of 
the  interreaction  of  these  two  qualities  in  the 
chaotic  mass  of  buildings  that  crowd  the  lower 
end  of  Manhattan  Island.    There  are  simple, 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE        13 

square,  many-windowed  boxes,  colossally  ugly; 
there  are  granite  bank  buildings,  superbly  dig- 
nified; there  are  great  towers  standing  high, 
some  lovely  with  intricate  carving  and  spiky 
pinnacle,  some  more  severe,  with  mighty  col- 
umn and  bold  cornice ;  and  around  the  skirts  of 
the  big  business  buildings  there  are  massed  the 
low  and  dingy  tenements,  shadowed  and  drab. 
Each  one  of  these  various  structures  is  a  com- 
plex whole  embodying  within  itself  all  the  thou- 
sand factors  of  our  lives  which  it  is  meant  to 
serve ;  each  building  has  a  form  and  a  character 
directly  determined  by  some  of  the  myriad 
needs  of  our  many-sided  civilization.  The  re- 
sult is  a  group  of  buildings  entirely  expressive 
of  our  national  spirit.  Look  at  the  dauntless 
daring  of  those  soaring  towers !  Notice  the  way 
the  decorative  motives  have  been  borrowed 
from  all  the  past;  in  one  place  the  plaid  of 
windows  is  overlaid  with  the  lacy  Gothic  of 
France,  in  another  are  piled  high  the  stately 
columns  of  Greece  and  Eome,  in  still  another 
the  pyramid  of  Egypt,  plumed  with  fleecy  steam, 
rises  strongly  in  the  air.  It  is  all,  indeed,  a  com- 
plete expression  of  this  nation's  youth,  of  its 
debt  to  all  the  past,  of  its  exuberant  vitality,  of 


14    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

its  respect  for  wealth  and  its  ostentation,  of  its 
young  idealism,  of  its  chaos  and  its  faults  and 
its  sentimentalities.  And  on  an  autumn  even- 
ing, when  the  white  towers  loom  pink  in  the 
afterglow,  and  lights  are  twinkling  in  the  win- 
dows, and  the  October  haze  lies  purple  over  all, 
it  is  passing  fair,  radiant  with  a  beauty  due  not 
only  to  the  soft  and  shimmering  atmosphere, 
but  also  to  the  effort  of  our  builders  and  the 
skill  of  our  architects. 

It  is  significant  that  these  buildings  are  almost 
entirely  commercial  buildings  of  one  kind  or 
another.  It  is  not  likely,  therefore,  that  they 
are  wild  dreams  of  an  unfettered  imagination; 
that  their  beauty  has  no  grounds  in  our  real  and 
everyday  life.  The  men  who  have  spent  the 
enormous  wealth  necessary  to  produce  them  are 
not  the  kind  of  men  one  would  expect  to  sink 
their  millions  in  any  scheme  that  was  not  eco- 
nomically sound.  Indeed,  one  element  of  the 
unique  beauty  of  all  these  mighty  buildings  lies 
in  the  fact  that  their  entire  form  is  the  direct 
result  of  the  particular  needs  of  the  activities 
which  they  house.  Their  character,  in  other 
words,  is  produced  by  the  two-fold  character  of 
architecture ;  for  the  attempt  of  the  architect  to 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE        15 

produce  a  building  which  shall  perform  its  work 
in  the  most  efficient  possible  manner  determines 
many  points  of  the  building's  general  shape, 
and  his  desire  to  create  a  thing  of  beauty  com- 
pels him  to  treat  this  shape  in  the  most  beautiful 
possible  way,  and  to  decorate  it  with  the  love- 
liest forms  at  his  command. 

It  is  the  combination  of  these  two  qualities 
which  has  produced  this  result,  in  the  case  of 
these  buildings  on  the  lower  end  of  Manhattan 
Island  so  uncannily  expressive  of  our  American 
life.  And  architecture,  because  of  this  twin 
basis  in  practical  needs  and  aesthetic  idealism, 
has  always  been  the  art  which  most  completely 
expresses  the  life  of  the  people  who  produce  it. 
In  this  fact  lies  the  next  pleasure  one  may 
obtain  from  architecture,  the  pleasure  of  read- 
ing in  buildings  the  whole  history  of  mankind, 
its  struggles,  its  ideals,  its  religions.  In  the 
rise  and  fall  of  Roman  architecture  one  may 
read  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  Roman  power,  and 
in  the  continual  use  of  Roman  decorative  forms 
for  the  last  five  hundred  years  one  may  feel 
some  small  measure  of  the  powerful  influence 
which  the  Roman  genius  has  exerted  through- 
out the  world.     Similarly,  the  architecture  of 


16    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

the  modern  countries  is  a  revelation  of  their  de- 
velopment; in  the  careful  and  painstaking  but 
uninspired  and  frankly  imitative  buildings 
which  the  English  loved  to  build  a  hundred 
years  ago  there  is  a  fine  expression  of  the  smug- 
ness and  of  the  lack  of  originality  that  charac- 
terized the  birth  of  English  industrialism,  and 
in  the  gradual  development  from  a  common  her- 
itage into  the  diverging  and  divergent  national 
styles  of  today  there  is  a  concrete  evidence  of 
that  tremendous  development  of  nationalism 
which  has  been  such  an  important  feature  of 
European  history  during  the  last  century — a  de- 
velopment which  bore  such  terrible  fruit  in  the 
summer  of  1914. 

In  architecture,  then,  always  keenly  conscious 
of  the  influence  of  the  past,  yet  always  su- 
premely expressive  of  the  present,  there  is  a 
continuous  and  vivid  commentary  on  human 
existence.  Whether  in  the  inscrutable  immen- 
sity of  the  many-columned  temples  of  Egypt,  or 
in  the  virile  delicacy  of  the  refinement  of  the 
best  Greek  work,  or  in  the  rich  and  powerful 
splendour  of  Eoman  thermae,  or  in  the  mys- 
terious aisles  of  a  Gothic  cathedral,  or  in  the 
free  gaiety  of  a  modern  French  theatre,  or  in 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE        17 

the  rugged,  almost  ruthless  power  of  some  of 
the  recent  German  monumental  work, — in  all  of 
these  one  with  a  seeing  eye  may  discern  the 
fascinating  tale  of  national  characters  and  their 
aims  and  struggles.  What  a  treasure  house  of 
broadening  and  cultural  knowledge  architecture 
becomes  when  it  is  seen  in  this  light!  Every 
building  becomes  eloquent  of  its  own  day,  and 
of  all  its  background  in  the  past.  Of  course  it 
is  only  the  archaeologist  and  the  careful  student 
of  styles  and  history  who  can  enjoy  this  pleas- 
ure to  the  greatest  extent,  but  it  is  a  simple 
matter  for  anyone  to  learn  about  the  principal 
styles,  how  they  arose  and  why  they  grew  or 
died.  Moreover,  there  is  all  the  lure  of  romance 
in  any  such  study  of  architecture,  for  it  peo- 
ples the  great  monuments  of  the  art  with  all  the 
pageantry  of  the  fascinating  past.  A  true  ap- 
preciation of  architecture  can  only  be  gained  by 
always  studying  it  in  relation  to  the  history  of 
the  people  who  produced  it,  and  to  one  gifted 
with  such  an  appreciation  every  city  becomes 
a  living  history  of  the  past  and  the  present, 
and  sometimes  even  an  indication  of  the  future. 
Another  pleasure  to  be  derived  from  archi- 
tecture is  that  which  comes  from  the  perception 


18    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

of  a  building's  emotional  tone.  For  architec- 
ture is  an  emotional  art,  as  truly  emotional  as 
music  or  painting  or  poetry.  As  an  art  it  must 
have  this  emotional  tone.  Too  often  we  forget 
this,  and  in  such  architectural  appreciation  as 
we  attempt,  we  adopt  an  attitude  strangely  cold 
and  intellectual.  It  is  hard  for  the  average  man 
to  conceive  of  anything  whatsoever  emotional  in 
stone  and  steel  and  cement.  Because  architec- 
ture cannot  tell  stories  or  represent  actual 
events,  because  it  cannot  work  as  directly  on 
our  sympathies  as  words  or  pictures,  because 
(and  perhaps  this  is  the  most  important  of  all), 
although  there  are  love  poems  and  love  stories 
and  love  pictures  and  love  music,  love  archi- 
tecture is  inconceivable — because  of  all  these 
things  we  forget  that  there  are  a  great  number 
of  emotions  which  architecture  can  express,  and 
express  with  all  the  greater  poignancy  because 
of  the  abstract  means  at  its  disposal. 

This  poignancy  is  the  result  of  the  fact  that 
in  architecture  the  form,  that  is,  the  element 
which  acts  directly  upon  the  eye,  and  the  matter, 
that  is,  the  element  which  acts  upon  the  spirit 
or  intellect,  are  so  inextricably  intertwined. 
Walter  Pater,  in  his  essay  on  the  School  of 


THE  APPEAL  OP  ARCHITECTURE        19 

Giorgione,  says  that  all  art  is  constantly  aspir- 
ing to  the  "perfect  identification  of  form  and 
matter. ' '  Music,  in  his  opinion,  is  the  art  which 
most  perfectly  realizes  this  ideal.  "In  its  ideal, 
consummate  moments,  the  end  is  not  distinct 
from  the  means,  the  form  from  the  matter,  the 
subject  from  the  expression ;  they  inhere  in  and 
completely  saturate  each  other ;  and  to  it,  there- 
fore, to  the  condition  of  its  perfect  moments,  all 
the  arts  may  be  supposed  constantly  to  tend  and 
aspire."  It  is  precisely  in  this  matter  of  the 
identification  of  the  form  and  the  matter,  the 
subject  and  the  expression,  that  architecture  is 
most  closely  analogous  to  music.  Architecture 
has  been  called  "frozen  music,' '  not  because 
of  any  mystical  similarities  between  musical 
forms  and  architectural  forms,  or  between  musi- 
cal rhythms  and  architectural  rhythms,  but  be- 
cause in  both  great  architecture  and  great  music 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  the  existence  of 
the  matter  apart  from  the  form.  In  this  re- 
gard these  two  arts  stand  alone.  For  instance, 
the  landscape  or  the  figures  which  the  painter 
paints  have  a  real  and  definite  existence  out- 
side of  the  artist's  work,  and  the  same  landscape 
under  the  same  atmospheric  conditions,  or  the 


20    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

same  figures  posed  in  the  same  positions,  would 
produce  emotions  at  least  partially  the  same, 
no  matter  how  treated.  But  in  architecture  or 
in  music,  if  the  form  is  removed,  the  emotion 
which  the  form  expresses  is  at  once  destroyed  as 
well.  A  simple  concrete  example  will  show  the 
truth  of  this  assertion.  Imagine  a  lofty-aisled 
Gothic  cathedral.  The  light,  mellowed  by  the 
glowing  colour  of  the  stained  glass  windows, 
is  rich  and  soft ;  high  piers  soar  up  to  the  arch- 
ing vault  in  the  shadows  overhead;  on  distant 
altars  at  the  ends  of  long  vistas  through  clus- 
tered shafts  candles  burn  with  a  warm  radiance ; 
and  the  effect  upon  the  beholder  is  an  overpow- 
ering emotion  of  peace  and  quiet,  reverent  awe. 
Then  imagine  a  church  architecturally  amor- 
phous; take  away  the  stained  glass,  the  clus- 
tered shafts,  the  pointed  arches,  the  shadowed 
vault — the  emotion  has  fled  with  them,  for  it  is 
inherent  in  them,  its  existence  is  one  with  their 
existence,  and  the  poignancy  of  the  effect  is 
directly  due  to  this  complete  identification  of  the 
emotion  with  the  forms  which  produce  it. 

It  is  true  that  the  number  of  emotions  which 
architecture  can  produce  is  limited,  but  those 
which  it  does  arouse  are  usually  of  the  highest 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE       21 

and  most  beneficial  kind.  There  is  the  impres- 
sion of  immense  power,  for  instance.  Surely 
everyone  has  felt  it  at  some  time  in  the  presence 
of  some  great  building;  perhaps  in  the  sunny 
courts  of  Thebes  or  Karnak,  perhaps  before  the 
mighty  vaults  and  serried  arches  of  the  Roman 
Colosseum,*  perhaps  under  the  high  roofs  of 
Rheims  or  Westminster,  perhaps,  as  one  hur- 
ried through  the  narrow  streets  of  lower 
New  York,  when  he  suddenly  saw  rising  before 
him  the  massive  arches  of  Brooklyn  Bridge.  It 
is  a  sort  of  fine  pride,  externalized  and  purified, 
a  consciousness  that  in  these,  at  least,  mankind 
shall  live ;  that  these,  at  least,  of  his  works  shall 
endure  and  stand,  as  so  many  have,  their  thou- 
sand years  and  more.  This  sense  of  power  is 
one  of  the  commonest  and  most  obvious  of  the 
architectural  emotions,  because  all  really  good 
buildings  should  have  it  to  some  extent.  There 
is  something  of  permanence  in  every  building ; 
building  materials  themselves — stone  and  brick 
and  tile  and  well-worked  wood — if  properly 
treated,  will  give  this  impression;  it  only  re- 
mains for  the  architect  to  use  them  in  a  simple 
and  expressive  way,  and  his  building  will  ap- 
pear strong.  Moreover,  it  is  an  emotion  that  is 
*  5ee  the  Plate  opposite  page  22, 


22    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

dear  to  the  heart  of  all  mankind,  for  it  serves  to 
mitigate,  at  least  to  some  degree,  the  much  hid- 
den but  all  pervasive  sense  of  the  poverty  and 
the  futility  of  the  individual  life. 

Another  emotion  which  architecture  can  pro- 
duce is  the  emotion  of  peace,  an  emotion  more 
subtle  than  the  sense  of  power  and  more  benefi- 
cent. Where  heavy  weight  is  strongly  sup- 
ported, where  there  is  simplicity  in  design  and 
a  careful  harmony  of  proportion,  there  is  al- 
ways a  source  of  repose ;  there  is  always  a  sub- 
tle influence  making  for  rest.  One  may  at  any 
time  see  a  small  crowd  of  people  sitting  around 
the  base  of  the  Boston  Public  Library,  resting. 
People  hurrying  to  or  from  the  subway  across 
One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth  Street  in  New  York 
will  suddenly  check  their  pace,  confronted  all  at 
once  with  the  imposing  simplicity  of  long,  white 
steps  backed  with  the  green  of  trees,  and 
crowned  with  the  wonderful  colonnade  of  the 
Columbia  Library.  Indeed,  wherever  there  is  a 
really  beautiful  building  in  a  little  open  space 
one  is  likely  to  find  people  slowing  their  hasty 
walk,  sitting  down  if  they  can,  resting.  And 
why?  Because  there  the  mind  of  the  architect 
has  been  at  work;  there  good  architecture  is 


-        bfl 

W      c 


>>— • 

3* 
is  o> 

a. 

a 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE        23 

pouring  over  them  the  continuous  blessing  of 
its  peace. 

There  are  lighter  and  more  concrete  emotions, 
too,  which  have  their  place  in  architecture.  The 
architect  can  express  gaiety,  playfulness,  relax- 
ation, as  well  as  the  musician  or  the  painter. 
There  are  theatres,  for  instance,  that  invite  the 
passerby  to  enter ;  with  gay  colour  and  exuber- 
ant ornament  they  seem  to  give  promise  of  a 
feast  of  enjoyment  within.  The  best  of  these 
amusement  places  seem  almost  vocal,  so  full 
of  a  gay  abandon  are  they.  Our  exhibition  ar- 
chitecture has  a  large  amount  of  this  quality, 
and  certain  portions  of  the  San  Francisco  Ex- 
position of  1915  were  like  solidified  laughter. 
We  must  always  remember  that  the  architect  is 
only  a  man ;  he  need  not  always  be  solemn,  nor 
need  he  foreswear  gaiety,  provided  only  that  he 
make  his  gaiety  beautiful. 

All  good  architecture  should  have  this  gift 
of  expressiveness.  Every  building,  every  well- 
designed  room,  should  carry  in  itself  at  least 
one  message  of  cheer  or  rest  or  power.  One 
should  always  study  the  buildings  around  with 
this  in  mind.  Soon  some  will  take  on  new  val- 
ues; whatever  they  are  they  will  become  vital 


24    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

with  their  message ;  and  a  great  number  of  oth- 
ers will  remain  as  before — vague,  grey,  lifeless 
things.  In  the  buildings  which  seem  alive  with 
some  message  the  architect  has  succeeded ;  they 
are  true  works  of  art.  All  the  others  may  not  of 
necessity  be  actually  very  bad  in  design,  but 
they  are  never  great,  for  their  architecture  has 
failed  in  one  of  its  most  important  duties. 

By  far  the  most  important  of  all  the  pleasures 
which  architecture  can  produce  is  the  deep  joy 
of  true  and  noble  inspiration :  that  big  sense  of 
awe  and  reverence  that  comes  only  when  some- 
thing has  struck  deep  at  the  foundations  of  our 
souls.  It  is  the  feeling  that  thrills  one  as  he  en- 
ters from  a  blustering  autumn  day  into  the  dim, 
tremendous  quiet  of  Notre  Dame  at  Paris ;  it  is 
the  joy  which  sings  in  the  gorgeous  glow  of  the 
richness  of  Saint  Mark's  at  Venice.  It  is  most 
frequently  associated  with  religious  buildings, 
such  as  Saint  Peter's  in  Eome,  or  Westminster 
Abbey,  or  some  of  our  own  great  churches,  but 
it  is  by  no  means  confined  to  them.  Nor  is  it 
limited  to  buildings  of  large  size.  It  can  come 
from  small  structures  as  well :  for  it  would  be  a 
cold  person,  indeed,  who  did  not  thrill  as  he 
turned  a  corner  in  Athens  and  suddenly  saw  ris- 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE        25 

ing  in  front  of  him  out  of  squalid  slums  the  lit- 
tle Monument  of  Lysikrates,  so  delicate,  so  per- 
fect, so  shining  with  a  candid  purity  in  the 
midst  of  all  that  drabness. 

This  inspirational  quality  is  as  independent 
of  a  building's  age  as  it  is  of  its  size;  it  is  a 
result  of  perfection,  and  it  may  exist  in  a  build- 
ing a  year  old  as  strongly  as  in  one  a  thousand 
times  its  age.  When  one  lifts  the  leather  cur- 
tains of  the  door  of  Saint  Peter's,  and  enters 
for  the  first  time  the  hushed  immensity  of  its 
great  interior,*  the  inspiration  of  its  nobil- 
ity sweeps  over  one  like  a  compelling  tide ;  but 
exactly  the  same  emotion  may  overwhelm  one 
in  the  concourse  of  the  Pennsylvania  station  in 
New  York — that  great  strong-vaulted  interior 
which  swallows  up  its  crowds  and  stills  their 
tumult,  and  dignifies  them.t  It  is  a  thrilling 
feeling  of  awe,  a  reverence  for  God  and  man,  a 
sudden  keen  realization  of  the  worth-whileness 
of  life  and  the  smallness  of  the  individual. 

Architecture  has  always  this  crowning  reve- 
lation as  its  end,  and  when  it  strikes  this  note  it 
has  succeeded  in  saying  its  greatest  word. 
When,  as  you  stand  before  some  building,  or  in 

*  See  Frontispiece. 

t  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  26. 


26    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

some  grand  interior,  you  feel  rising  within  you 
this  wave  of  thrilling  inspiration,  this  emotion 
of  quiet  reverence,  then  you  may  rest  assured 
that  you  are  in  the  presence  of  something  truly 
great,  a  veritable  architectural  masterpiece. 
Such  a  joy  as  this  can  never  be  taught  or 
learned;  for  just  as  it  takes  giants  to  design 
buildings  that  produce  it,  so  those  alone  can  ap- 
preciate it  fully  who  keep  their  souls  unspoiled 
and  sensitive  and  their  sensibilities  alert  and 
keen,  those  who  know  what  faith  and  reverence 
are,  and  who  have  not  lost  amid  the  turmoil  of 
modern  life  the  thin  clear  music  of  the  soul's 
singing. 

These,  then,  are  the  gifts  which  architecture  is 
always  ready  to  give  you  freely,  will  you  but 
keep  your  minds  active  and  your  eyes  open. 
Begin  at  once,  whether  you  think  you  know 
anything  about  architecture  or  not.  Study  the 
building  you  work  in  and  try  to  decide  whether 
it  pleases  you,  and  why.  As  you  leave  your 
home,  look  back,  and  see  if  it  is  a  residence  you 
are  proud  to  live  in ;  if  it  expresses  in  some  way 
the  joy  you  feel  in  returning  to  it;  if  it  looks 
inviting,  comfortable,  homelike,  beautiful.  And 
on  your  daily  business,  wherever  it  may  take 


pennsylvania  station,  new  york  city 
(concourse) 

(Copyright  by  W.  Irving  Underhill,  N.  Y.) 
Thoughtful  and  imaginative  design  makes  this  modern  interior  instinct  with 
noble  inspiration.     See  page  25. 


THE  APPEAL  OF  ARCHITECTURE       27 

you,  by  library  or  school  or  apartment  house  or 
church  or  farmhouse  or  villa,  look  at  them,  be 
they  good  or  bad,  with  a  new  interest,  and  know 
that  in  them,  and  in  the  emotions  they  arouse 
in  you,  there  is  an  immense  store  of  vivid  and 
broadening  pleasure  awaiting  your  enjoyment. 
As  you  do  this,  there  will  gradually  grow  over 
you  a  grey  feeling  of  fatigue  and  displeasure 
when  you  pass  street  after  street  of  thousand- 
windowed  boxes  with  rusty  tin  cornices  atop 
and  horribly  ornamented  hallways  below — the 
homes  of  thousands  upon  thousands  of  city 
dwellers — or  you  may  feel  a  glow  of  pleasure  or 
quiet  rest  or  even  awe  where  some  really  beau- 
tiful building  rears  its  walls. 

When  even  this  measure  of  appreciation  is 
yours,  you  may  know  that  you  have  begun  to 
open  the  great  book  of  architecture,  and  every 
successive  page  you  will  find  filled  with  more 
and  more  of  interest  and  value.  And  the  pleas- 
ure you  get  from  your  growing  appreciation 
will  not  be  its  only  result,  for  you  have  joined 
the  continually  growing  number  of  those  who 
realize  the  enormous  value  of  good  architecture, 
and  in  the  place  of  the  terrible  architectural 
blunders  of  which  we  have  been  too  often  guilty, 


28    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

demand  architectural  masterpieces.  Thus  you 
will  be  helping  in  the  task  of  the  gradual  raising 
of  the  standard  of  our  national  taste,  and  so 
adding  to  the  health,  the  happiness  and  the 
spiritual  enrichment  of  yourselves  and  the 
Americans  of  the  future. 


CHAPTER   II 


LAWS   OF   FORM   IN   ARCHITECTURE 

There  is  no  greater  obstacle  to  the  appreciation 
of  architecture  than  the  fog  of  criticism  that 
hangs  all  about  it.  The  architects  themselves 
are  largely  to  blame  for  this.  Forced  to  close 
contact  with  its  infinite  complexity,  they  have 
been  so  occupied  with  questions  of  style  and  of 
structure  that  their  minds  have  become  obsessed 
with  these,  to  the  almost  complete  neglect  of  the 
broad,  basic  criteria  of  criticism  which  under- 
lie all  styles  and  all  methods  of  construction. 
The  critics  have  in  general  followed  in  their 
steps.  There  are  histories  of  architecture  ga- 
lore, and  books  and  lectures  supporting  this, 
that,  or  the  other  style ;  but  the  amount  of  ser- 
ious and  simple  architectural  criticism  has  been 
small  indeed.  Conditions  have  improved  little 
even  in  this  critical  and  self-consciously  dis- 
criminating day.  A  few  books  there  have  been 
that  strove  to  pierce  the  fog  and  show  the  real 
values  of  a  building,  but  in  too  many  cases  an 

29 


30    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

attempt  at  broadmindedness  with  regard  to 
styles  has  led  to  an  almost  complete  lack  of 
any  discrimination  whatsoever.  The  popular 
magazines  devoted  to  building  and  landscape 
gardening  murmur  through  an  intellectual 
vacuum  of  the  charm  of  this  or  the  charm  of 
that,  and  beautiful  photographs  strive  in  vain  to 
take  the  place  of  real  criticism  in  telling  the 
reader  what  is  good  and  bad  in  architecture. 

T^or  there  is  a  good  and  bad  in  architecture  as 
in  all  the  arts.  Popular  taste  may  wax  and 
wane;  it  may  demand  now  Gothic  arches  and 
now  Greek  columns,  but  beneath  all  this  change 
there  is  a  substratum  of  what  seems  to  be  uni- 
versal law.  Architecture,  as  an  art  of  form  and 
colour,  can  as  surely  be  criticised  according  to 
the  approved  laws  of  form  and  colour  as  any  of 
its  sister  arts,  and  it  is  on  these  laws  that  all 
criticism  of  architecture  must  be  based. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  go  into  the  origin  of 
these  laws.  That  is  the  concern  of  the  psycholo- 
gist and  the  philosopher.  Whatever  may  be 
their  basis,  the  fact  remains  that  certain  laws 
seem  to  be  followed  by  all  works  of  painting  or 
sculpture  or  architecture  that  the  consensus  of 
opinion  of  mankind  has  judged  beautiful.    Not 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     31 

only  are  these  laws  deducible  in  painting  and 
sculpture  and  architecture,  the  arts  of  form  and 
colour,  but  the  working  of  the  same  laws,  or 
laws  closely  analogous  to  them,  can  be  found  in 
the  arts  of  sound — in  good  literature  and  good 
music.  They  seem  to  be  general  rules,  in  ac- 
cordance with  which  a  man's  mind  always  works 
when  he  strives  to  create  something  which  shall 
have  that  quality  which  makes  it  pleasing  to  his 
senses — the  quality  of  beauty,  or  when  he  tr^es 
to  think  about  that  which  has  appealed  to  him 
as  having  this  quality. 

The  first  of  these  laws  is  so  universal  and  so 
important  that  compliance  with  it  has  often  been 
recognized  as  the  sole  necessity  of  beauty. 
Pythagoras  and  Aristotle  voiced  it  in  Greece 
over  two  thousand  years  ago,  and  almost 
every  philosopher  since  has  recorded  it  and 
restated  it  when  dealing  with  the  subject  of 
beauty.  Beauty,  according  to  these  authorities, 
is  a  characteristic  of  any  object  composed  of 
varied  elements  that  produces  a  unity  of  effects 
upon  the  sensations  of  the  beholder.  >  It  sounds 
simple  enough,  this  formula,  but  as  it  is  exam- 
ined, its  meaning  will  become  so  full,  and  so 
far-reaching,  that  the  simplicity  of  the  phrasing 


32    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

will  seem  deceptive.  Even  so,  this  definition 
covers  only  a  small  part  of  the  whole  field  of 
what  men  call  beautiful;  it  neglects  the  entire 
emotional  and  associative  value  of  beauty.  It 
considers  beauty  merely  as  an  external  quality, 
as  a  matter  purely  of  the  senses  rather  than 
of  the  heart.  Allowing  all  the  onesidedness  of 
this  definition,  however,  it  will  still  be  necessary 
to  discover  its  meaning  and  its  application  to 
architecture,  particularly  as  we  are  dealing  in 
this  chapter  with  architecture  purely  as  form. 
What  is  unity?  (JDnity  is  the  quality  of  an 
object  by  which  it  appears  as  definitely  and  or- 
ganically one  single  thing. )  It  is  possessed  by 
any  building  that  at  once  strikes  the  beholder  as 
a  single  composition.  No  matter  how  complex 
the  parts  of  a  building  may  be,  or  how  large  the 
whole,  if  the  complex  parts  at  once  take  their 
place  as  component  parts  of  the  whole,  the  build- 
ing is  unified,  and  is  thus  far  a  good  building. 
As  an  example  of  a  complex  yet  unified  build- 
ing, take  the  Capitol  at  Washington.*  The 
Capitol  was  built  at  several  different  per- 
iods, with  several  quite  distinct  parts — the  two 
end  wings,  the  central  block,  the  portions  that 
connect  them,  and  the  dome,  and  with  each  part 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


W  u 
a 

Q  'g 

1 1 

z  s 

i-i  ci 

PC  « 

3  E 

8  * 

nh  a) 

Pi  O 

U  2 


fc    2 


ft  . 
S  o 


'Sicfi 


LAWS  OF  FOEM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    33 

itself  composed  of  many  varied  elements — col- 
umns, windows,  doors,  pediments,  balustrades 
and  so  forth.  Each  of  these,  in  turn,  might  be 
analyzed  into  its  own  several  elements,  mould- 
ings, spots  of  bright  light  and  shade,  carved  or- 
nament, until  the  building  is  seen  to  be  com- 
posed of  thousands  of  pieces  of  carved  or  cut 
stone,  and  myriad  openings  through  the  stone, 
each  stone  and  each  opening  contributing  its 
own  special  note  of  dark  or  light  to  the  whole. 
Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  all  this  tremendous 
complexity,  this  enormous  number  of  differing 
parts,  when  the  whole  is  seen,  there  is  no  sense 
of  confusion,  of  multiplicity;  there  is,  on  the 
contrary,  only  an  impression  of  great  size  and 
impressive  dignity,  even  of  simplicity,  and  the 
great  dome  above  seems  to  bind  the  whole  into 
one  mighty  composition.  The  skill  of  the  archi- 
tects who  have  worked  successively  on  the  build- 
ing has  been  equal  in  each  case  to  its  task.  By 
keeping  the  main  lines  simple,  and  by  judicious 
repetition  of  the  main  motives — pediments,  col- 
onnades, and  steps — these  architects  have  suc- 
ceeded in  making  a  unity  out  of  complexity,  and 
so  have  produced  a  building  that  fulfills  per- 
fectly the  first  and  perhaps  most  important  re- 


34    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

quirement  of  beauty.  It  is  a  living  expression 
in  stone  of  our  country's  motto,  "E  pluribus 
unum." 

And  yet  how  easy  it  is  to  lose  this  precious 
touch  of  unity !  In  New  York  there  has  been  re- 
cently built  a  costly  and  lavish  office  building 
with  a  fagade  composed  of  eight  stages  of  Ionic 
colonnade,  with  three  stories  to  each  stage.  The 
material  of  the  front  is  rich  and  simple,  the 
execution  is  nearly  perfect,  the  ornament  is 
graceful  and  well  applied.  Even  the  Ionic  col- 
umns and  their  entablatures  are  in  themselves 
beautiful,  studied  and  refined  to  the  last  de- 
gree. At  first  thought  it  might  oecur  to  one 
that  this  repetition  of  the  same  motive  would 
give  unity  to  the  building,  but  in  reality,  how 
different  is  the  case !  Far  from  giving  the  build- 
ing unity,  this  repetition  of  the  same  order, 
stage  on  stage,  produces  a  monotonous  and  os- 
tentatious confusion,  and  the  building,  sawed 
into  pieces  by  the  strong  cornices  that  cut 
across  it  at  each  three  stories,  appears  not  one 
but  several  buildings,  piled  interminably  one 
on  the  other.  It  is,  therefore,  a  building  that 
lacks  the  saving  grace  of  unity,  and  however 
charming  its  detail,  and  lovely  its  parts,  as  a 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    35 

whole  it  fails  of  beauty.  This  failure  is  made 
all  the  more  evident  by  the  contrast  with  the 
charming  simplicity  of  the  colonial  Saint  Paul's 
Church  beside  it,  with  its  simple  lines,  its  digni- 
fied colonnade,  and  its  graceful  spire. 


The  National  Gallery,  London,  England. 

Fig.  1.  Multiplicity  of  motives,  and  dissimilarities 
in  their  treatment,  destroy  the  unity  of  this  building. 

As  an  even  better  example  of  the  loss  of  unity 
and  its  disastrous  results,  take  a  still  simpler 
building,  the  National'  Gallery  in  London. 
This  building  is  particularly  suited  for  com- 
parison with  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  be- 
cause it  uses  so  many  of  the  same  motives 
— domes,  columns,  and  a  pediment.     Indeed, 


36    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

it  has  fewer  motives  and  simpler  elements. 
In  place  of  the  many  windows  of  the  other 
building,  it  has  long  stretches  of  cut  stone 
wall,  the  strongest  and  most  dignified  form  in 
architecture.  Yet,  even  with  this  simple  and 
dignified  series  of  forms  at  his  disposal,  the  ar- 
chitect has  failed  to  give  unity  to  the  building. 
In  place  of  the  great  dome  of  our  national  Capi- 
tol there  is  a  small  excresence  above  the  main 
entrance,  a  dome  so  small  in  size  and  so  puny 
in  design,  that  it  becomes,  not  the  building's 
crowning  glory,  but  rather  an  ugly  superfluity, 
a  useless  appendage  that  instead  of  binding  the 
whole  building  together  by  its  compelling  gran- 
deur, seems  only  to  add  to  its  confusion.  The 
same  lack  of  appreciation  of  unity,  the  same  in- 
decision, appears  in  the  whole  front.  Standing, 
as  it  does,  at  the  head  of  a  great  square,  one  of 
the  most  important  in  London,  this  building 
ought  to  have  a  magnificent  dignity.  In  reality, 
its  central  eight-columned  portico  is  small  and 
meagre  in  effect,  and  its  pediment  above  too 
low ;  like  the  dome,  it  completely  fails  to  centre 
one's  interest,  or  even  adequately  to  suggest  its 
purpose.  On  either  side  of  its  ineffective  col- 
umns the  design  is  still  worse.    On  either  side 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE      37 

there  is  a  stretch  of  wall,  and  then  a  sudden 
ornamented  projection  with  columns  and  cor- 
nice, as  if  the  wall  were  to  end  here,  in  this 
strongly  marked  end  pavillion.  But  no,  beyond 
it  stretches  on,  to  fade  away  in  another  pavil- 
lion similar  to  the  first' but  much  weaker,  and 
still  further  beyond  it  appears  once  more  in  a 
third  and  final  pavillion,  the  weakest  of  all,  the 
indecisive  close  of  an  indecisive  building.  De- 
spite the  simplicity  of  its  motives,  the  build- 
ing is  a  hodge  podge — wall,  pavillion,  wall,  pa- 
villion, ineffective  and  meagre  entrance,  puny 
and  insufficient  dome;  and  because  of  its  lack 
of  unity,  this  home  of  one  of  the  world's  great- 
est art  collections  is  a  building  that  laymen 
pass  by  without  a  second  glance  and  that  archi- 
tects think  of  with  scorn. 

All  these  buildings,  good  and  bad,  have  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  complexity,  and  they  must  have 
this  complexity,  not  only  for  practical,  but  for 
aesthetic  reasons  as  well.  Absolute  unity,  were 
such  a  thing  possible,  might  excite  wonder, 
amazement,  awe,  but  never  that  pleasure  that  is 
one  of  the  signs  of  beauty.  For  instance,  let 
the  reader  think  of  that  monument  of  prehis- 
toric effort,  Stonehenge.    If  it  is  beautiful,  it  is 


38    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

beautiful  only  in  so  far  as  it  has  complexity. 
Where  the  lintel  stones  remain  in  place,  the  re- 
sult is  more  beautiful  than  where  only  the  up- 
right piers  are  left;  where  several  of  these 
stand  side  by  side,  in  some  semblance  of  order, 
the  result  is  more  beautiful  than  where  one  is 
left  upright,  alone,  forbidding.  The  simplest 
obelisk  is  beautiful,  not  because  of  its  simplicity, 
but  because  of  the  subtle  relationships  between 
the  several  parts  of  it — the  width  at  the  base, 
the  width  near  the  top,  the  slope  of  the  sides, 
the  relations  between  the  height  of  the  pyra- 
midal part  at  the  top  and  the  part  below.  There 
is  great  complexity  of  form  in  an  obelisk,  simple 
as  it  appears,  and  complexity  in  aesthetic  dis- 
cussion always  refers  to  complexity  of  form, 
not  of  function  or  number.  Let  the  reader 
try  to  imagine  something  totally  without  com- 
plexity, as  large  or  small  as  he  pleases.  It  is 
impossible;  on  the  one  side  is  the  geometric 
point — a  pure  abstraction,  and  surely  not  beau- 
tiful— on  the  other,  infinity,  equally  an  abstrac- 
tion, equally  unbeautiful.  The  nearest  approach 
to  such  a  concept  possible  to  the  human  imagi- 
nation is  conceivably  a  huge,  colourless  sphere, 
hanging  in  nothingness.     Surely  that  would 


/ 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    39 

not  excite  the  pleasurable  warmth  of  beauty  in 
one.  The  feelings  at  such  a  vision  realized 
might  be  feelings  of  fear,  or  awe,  or  wonder, 
perhaps  even  of  religious  reverence,  or  terror, 
but  beauty  has  flown,  for  there  is  little  of  beauty 
in  the  purely  abstract. 

Unity  and  variety,  then,  are  both  necessary 
to  beauty,  in  architecture  as  in  everything  else. 
Variety  is  absolutely  necessary  in  architecture ; 
the  architect  need  not  be  concerned  over  that. 
A  host  of  practical  requirements  necessitates 
windows,  doors,  chimneys,  porches,  roofs.  The 
disposition  of  the  rooms  and  several  parts  of 
even  the  simplest  building  requires  projections 
or  variations  of  the  exterior.  Even  in  tombs 
or  commemorative  monuments  inscriptions  and 
ornament  necessitate  a  certain  complexity.  It 
is,  therefore,  impossible  for  any  architect  to  de- 
sign a  building  without  complexity.  Ifc  is  the 
binding  of  all  the  various  units  into  a  single 
work  that  is  his  greatest  resthejicjroblem,  the 
correlating  of  all,  so  that  each  shall  perform 
its  required  aesthetic  service,  so  that  each  shall 
bear  its  proper  relationship  to  every  other,  and 
to  the  whole  work.    How,  then,  may  he  do  this  ? 

The  best  way  to  answer  this  question,  so  im- 


40    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AKCHITECTURE 

portant  to  one  who  attempts  to  appreciate  archi- 
tecture, as  well  as  to  the  designer,  is  to  find  out 
the  dominant  qualities  that  are  common  to  all 
beautiful  and  unified  buildings.  This  has  been 
often  done,  and  the  results  have  been  so  uni- 
form that  they  have  been  codified  into  laws,  or 
perhaps  more  really,  rules  of  artistic  composi- 
tion. If  they  are  once  understood  and  applied, 
sound  criticism  is  the  inevitable  result,  so  it  is 
necessary  that  they  be  carefully  considered. 
They  are,  in  brief,  the  laws  of  balance,  rhythm, 
good  proportion,  climax  (centre  of  interest), 
and  harmony.  Some  people  would  add  grace  to 
the  list,  but  it  is  better  to  consider  grace  as 
a  result  of  the  working  of  the  other  rules. 
Strangely  enough,  these  laws  or  rules,  deduced 
from  good  buildings,  are  practically  the  same 
as  the  laws  that  govern  good  literature  or  good 
music;  that  seems  sufficient  commentary  upon 
their  validity.  One  might  write  a  book  of 
rhetoric  based  upon  them,  or  a  book  on  musical 
composition,  but  it  is  their  application  to  archi- 
tecture that  is  of  first  interest  here,  so  that 
time  will  be  well  spent  in  investigating  them  in 
detail  and  considering  them  in  all  their  architec- 
ural  implications. 


C       o 

w  i 

9 

£     S2 


7.      o 

a     a. 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    41 

The  first  aesthetic  law  is,  then,  the  law  of  bal-  _ 
ance,  which  may  be  stated  as  follows:  Every 
building  should  be  so  composed  that  the  parts 
of  it  on  either  side  of  an  imaginary  line  ex- 
pressed in  some  manner  in  the  design,  shall  be 
of  apparently  eguaJL  weight.  The  most  simple 
application  of  this  law  is  seen  in  symmetrical 
buildings,  so  it  will  be  well  to  consider  these 
first,  and  leave  the  more  difficult  applications  in 
so-called  picturesque  and  non-symmetrical 
buildings  till  later.  Symmetry — the  exact  cor- 
respondence of  the  two  halves  of  a  building — 
can  only  exist  when  a  building  is  in  perfect  bal- 
ance. This  is  self-evident,  but  it  is  not  all. 
Symmetrical  buildings  may  themselves  be  di- 
vided into  classes,  corresponding  to  several  dif- 
ferent schemes  of  design,  more  or  less  complex. 
The  simpler  schemes  are  the  most  universally 
successful,  and  it  becomes  increasingly  difficult 
to  manage  the  whole  composition  as  motives  are 
added,  since  the  increasing  complexity  makes  it 
difficult  for  the  eye  to  seize  at  once  the  inherent 
balance,  which  is  such  a  large  element  in  the 
beauty  of  the  whole. 

The  simplest  of  these  symmetrical  masses  is, 
of  course,  the  plain  rectangular  front,  with  or 


42    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AKCHITECTURE 

without  a  gable.  Such  a  front  can  be  seen  in 
any  Greek  temple — the  Parthenon,  for  example, 
or  the  temple  of  Theseus  at  Athens.*  The 
latter  is  chosen  for  illustration  because  in 
mass,  at  least,  it  exists  in  nearly  its  original 
form.  The  front  of  this  temple  consists  simply 
of  a  row  of  six  columns,  crowned  with  a  low 
gable — a  pediment.  The  symmetry  is  perfect, 
and  hence  the  balance ;  the  axis  of  balance,  the 
pivot,  as  it  were,  is  just  sufficiently  expressed 
by  the  peak  of  the  gable  above,  and  the  door 
below.  The  whole,  in  absolute,  easily  grasped 
balance,  is  reposeful,  satisfying  and  beautiful. 
A  second  scheme,  a  shade  more  complex,  con- 
sists of  a  simple  rectangular  form  in  the  middle, 
usually,  but  not  always,  long  and  low  in  effect, 
with  a  smaller,  but  strongly  accented  form  at 
each  end.  It  is  seen  to  perfection  in  the  new 
Post-Office  on  Eighth  Avenue  in  New  York 
City  t  and  in  the  Bureau  of  Printing  and  En- 
graving at  Washington — a  long  open  colonnade, 
stopped  at  each  end  against  a  projecting 
feature  or  pavillion  of  heavy  masonry.  In  a 
slightly  more  subtle  form  the  same  scheme  is 
seen  in  the  Palazzo  Vendramini  at  Venice.  :£ 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  40. 
t  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  202. 
JSee  the  Plate  opposite  page  46. 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    43 

In  this  case  the  end  pavillions  are  treated 
exactly  like  the  portions  between  them,  with 
the  exception  of  the  coupling  of  the  columns 
on  either  side  of  the  end  windows,  and  the 
flat  wall  that  shows  between  these  coupled  col- 
umns. These  little  changes  at  the  ends  of  the 
building  give  it  at  once  a  dignity  and  a  distinc- 
tion that  it  could  never  have  had  if  the  end  bays 
had  been  the  same  as  those  between.  Without 
this  additional  weight  at  the  corners  the  build- 
ing would  have  had  an  undistinguished,  indecis- 
ive air.  There  would  have  been  always  the 
feeling  that  there  was  no  reason  for  the  build- 
ing ending  where  it  did,  as  though  it  might  just 
as  well  have  been  two  or  four  or  six  windows 
larger.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  the  New  York 
Post-Office — a  colonnade  of  that  length  without 
strong  end  pavillions  to  stop  it  would  have  been 
disastrously  amorphous,  beginning  nowhere, 
ending  nowhere. 

The  aesthetic  value  of  these  end  features  in  a 
large  and  complex  building  can  be  seen  in  the 
apparent  weakness  of  so  many  of  our  modern 
American  loft  buildings.  Symmetry  they  may 
have,  but  demand  for  light  and  show  window 
space  has  reduced  walls  to  mere  piers  of  terra 


44    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

cotta  or  brick ;  economy  in  the  use  of  steel  neces- 
sitates the  regular  spacing  of  these  piers,  so 
that  all  too  many  of  them  seem  mere  unfinished 
shells — slices  of  building,  as  it  were,  sawed  in 
sections  out  of  some  huge  and  perhaps  beauti- 
ful composition,  and  then  dumped  hit  or  miss  in 
our  streets. 


Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  Paris,  France. 

Fig.  2.  An  example  of  the  second  scheme  of  sym- 
metrical design,  with  the  end  motives — the  towers — 
as  the  dominating  features. 


However,  there  are  dangers,  too,  in  the  use 
of  end  pavillions.  The  main  danger  is  that  they 
may  become  too  large  for  the  whole,  large 
enough  to  distract  the  attention  from  the  central 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    45 

portion  of  the  building,  and  yet  not  large 
enough  to  be  the  main  features  of  the  design,  as 
they  are  in  Notre  Dame  in  Paris,*  or  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Cologne,  or  Saint  Patrick's  Cathedral 
in  New  York.  This  is  a  fault  that  spoils 
great  numbers  of  American  churches ;  the  tow- 
ers, that  ought  to  dominate,  have  been  reduced 
and  spread  apart,  with  a  mediocre  porch  be- 
tween, so  that  the  final  result  is  confusion,  three 
units  of  equal  aesthetic  weight  crowded  to- 
gether, all  fighting  for  the  observer's  attention. 
This  scheme  of  tripartite  symmetry  is  closely 
allied  to  the  next  scheme,  also  of  three  units. 
In  this  scheme  the  central  unit  is  much  more 
strongly  emphasized;  it  is  usually  higher  and 
broader  than  the  rest  of  the  building,  so  that 
the  effect,  instead  of  being  that  of  a  unit  re- 
peated several  times  in  the  middle,  and  stopped 
at  the  ends  by  heavier  units,  is  that  of  a  strong 
unit  in  the  middle,  with  weaker  elements  at  each 
side.  The  effect  of  the  two  schemes  might  be 
compared  to  two  families  out  walking;  in  the 
first  the  father  and  mother  walk  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  road,  with  all  the  children  hand  in 
hand  between  them ;  in  the  second  the  father  is 
alone  in  the  middle,  with  a  child  or  two  on  either 
side  of  him. 

*  See  Fig.  2,  page  44. 


46    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

This  last  scheme  is  a  favourite  one  for  the 
smaller  types  of  formal  building.  It  is  illus- 
trated by  hundreds  of  colonial  houses,  such  as 
the  Craigie  (Longfellow)  house  in  Cambridge, 
Massachusetts,  and  by  endless  small  libraries, 
where  the  central,  dominant  portion  suggests 
the  welcome  of  the  entrance,  and  the  less  domi- 
nant portions  on  either  side  the  various  rooms 
to  which  the  entrance  leads.  The  Minneapolis 
Art  Museum  is  an  example  of  the  same  treat- 
ment applied  to  a  larger  building.  In  this 
scheme  the  danger  is  that  the  side  portions  shall 
become  unduly  important,  through  size,  or  deco- 
rative treatment,  so  that  the  effect  of  the  centre 
is  lost,  and  again  confusion  results. 

A  fourth  symmetrical  scheme  is  well  illus- 
trated by  the  United  States  Capitol.*  It  consists 
of  a  main  central  portion,  subsidiary  connecting 
links,  and,  at  the  ends,  strongly  marked  pavil- 
lions.  It  might  almost  be  considered  a  com- 
bination of  the  two  foregoing  types.  It  is  the 
most  formal  and  monumental  of  all,  and  is,  per- 
haps, the  most  successful  manner  of  treating 
large  and  important  buildings.  Hundreds  of  ex- 
amples suggest  themselves,  the  colonnade  of  the 

*See  the  Plate  opposite  page  32. 


>< 

0 

< 

* 

■- 

0 

c 

w 

u 

V 

o 

H 

> 

g 

A 

u 

| 

o 

< 

3 

< 

p- 

u 

4) 

X. 

i 

•< 

i 

C* 

- 

i 

> 

X 

e. 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    47 

Louvre,  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art  in 
New  York,  many  of  our  best  state  capitols, 
and  on  a  smaller  scale,  certain  monumental 
mansions  of  Virginia,  such  as  Jefferson's 
Monticello,  or  the  earlier  Shirley.  Here  again 
the  central  portion,  to  be  successful,  must 
be  strongly  dominant.  If  the  end  portions  be- 
come equal  to  the  centre  in  apparent  weight, 
the  eye  will  be  tempted  to  fix  on  any  of  the  three 
as  the  important  feature  of  the  building,  will 
strive  to  fix  the  axis  of  balance  in  the  end  in- 
stead of  in  the  centre,  and  confusion  will  result. 

The  reader  will  notice  that  in  the  successful 
examples  of  every  scheme,  except,  perhaps,  the 
second,  the  axis  of  balance  is  strongly  accented 
by  the  dominant  central  portion.  In  the  case 
of  the  second  scheme,  illustrated  by  the  New 
York  Post  Office,  and  the  Vendramini  Palace,  or 
by  Saint  Patrick's  Cathedral,  the  ends  are  heav- 
ily and  equally  weighted,  and  consequently,  so 
strong  is  the  sense  of  balance,  that  the  axis  of 
balance  need  not  be  expressed,  because  its  po- 
sition is  grasped  the  moment  the  building  is 
seen. 

All  of  the  best  symmetrical  buildings  can  be 


48    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AECHITECTURE 

grouped  under  one  of  these  four  heads.  The 
moment  a  building  becomes  so  complex  that  its 
motives  will  not  fall  into  any  of  these  four 
groupings,  in  other  words,  when  the  system  of 
the  building  divides  into  over  five  distinct  mo- 
tives, the  probabilities  are  all  against  its  being 
a  success.  There  is  a  limit  to  what  the  human 
eye  can  perceive  and  the  human  mind  appre- 
hend in  a  moment,  and  a  beautiful  building  must 
stand  forth  as  beautiful  on  the  most  cursory 
observation.  This  accounts  for  the  ineffective- 
ness of  the  National  Gallery  in  London ;  its  sys- 
tem of  walls  and  triple  end  pavillions  is  too 
complex  to  be  grasped  at  the  first  glance.  S  To 
avoid  confusion,  the  main  divisions  of  any  build- 
ing must  not  be  so  many  in  number  as  to  make  it 
difficult  instantly  to  understand  their  system.^ 

It  is  a  more  difficult  matter  to  understand  the 
application  of  the  law  of  balance  to  non-sym- 
metrical buildings.  At  first  sight  a  non-sym- 
metrical building  may  appear  out  of  balance, 
yet  beauty  cannot  be  denied  it.  What  a  bald 
place  this  earth  would  be  if  every  building  in 
it  were  absolutely  symmetrical !  We  should  lose 
Chartres  Cathedral,  for  instance,  and  Amiens, 
and  most  of  the   early  French  Renaissance 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE      49 

chateaux,  and  countless  lovely  modern  houses 
and  country  churches,  and  myriad  other  build- 
ings— and  to  be  denied  all  those  buildings  gifted 
with  that  free  and  appealing  charm  which  we 
term  "the  picturesque"  would  be  an  unimagin- 
able loss. 


Cathedral,  Chartres,  France. 

Fig.  3.  Balance  is  produced  in  a  non-symmetrical 
building  by  careful  proportioning  of  the  unsymmetric 
portions. 

The  simplest  class  of  non- symmetrical  build- 
ings is  that  in  which  the  axis  is  very  clearly 
felt,  in  which  there  exists  a  kind  of  free,  though 
not  absolute,  symmetry.  Chartres  and  Amiens 
Cathedral  are  examples.    In  both  the  lack  of 

i 


50    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

symmetry  is  in  certain  details,  rather  than  in 
scheme.  If  well  carried  out  this  scheme  is 
always  successful,  but  balance  and  beauty 
result  only  when  the  mass  of  the  two  un- 
symmetrical  parts  is  kept  almost  the  same.  For 
instance,  in  Chartres  Cathedral,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  buildings  of  this  type,  balance  is  pre- 
served and  beauty  made  certain  by  the  fact  that 
the  greater  sturdiness  and  solidity  of  the  older 
tower  on  the  right  is  compensated  for  by  the 
added  height  of  the  left  hand,  lighter,  more 
airy  tower.  The  present  aspect  of  the  front  of 
Rouen  Cathedral,  on  the  other  hand,  shows 
the  unfortunate  effect  of  this  quasi  sym- 
metry when  wrongly  handled.  Whatever  is 
thought  of  the  glorious  doorways  and  the  lacy 
late  Gothic  openwork  all  over  the  central  por- 
tion, it  is  certainly  true  that  as  a  whole  the 
front  is  not  perfectly  beautiful,  for  the  heavy 
mass  of  the  famous  " butter  tower"  on  one  side, 
with  nothing  adequate  to  counterweight  on  the 
other  side  of  a  front  otherwise  symmetrical, 
throws  the  whole  out  of  balance,  and  conse- 
quently produces  a  strong  feeling  of  dissatisfac- 
tion, of  restlessness,  whenever  the  whole  is  con- 
sidered  as   one    single   work   of   art,   rather 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    51 

than  as   a   combination   of   exqnisite   details. 

In  these  cases  of  non-symmetrical  but  nearly 
symmetrical  buildings,  the  balance  is  obvious, 
but  in  the  more  complicated  " picturesque' % 
buildings,  the  question  becomes  more  difficult. 
It  is  impossible  to  codify  these  " picturesque' f 
buildings  as  most  symmetrical  buildings  have 
been  codified;  they  are  too  different  from  one 
another,  and  possible  schemes  of  design  are  in- 
finite. Yet  it  is  absolutely  important  that  every 
beautiful  building  have  balance,  whether  it  is 
symmetrical  or  not,  and  if  one  is  to  look  with 
knowledge  for  beauty  in  buildings,  he  must 
know  something  about  this  difficult  question. 

The  best  that  can  be  done  is  to  indicate  and 
to  illustrate  a  few  of  the  basic  principles  that 
govern  balance  in  so-called  "picturesque" 
buildings.  First,  the  axis  of  balance  must  be 
expressed  in  some  way,  by  door,  or  balcony,  or 
porch,  or  some  interesting  feature.  This,  per- 
haps, is  the  most  important  point  of  all.  If  the 
axis  of  balance  is  so  expressed  by  such  a  feature 
of  the  building,  the  eye  will  be  drawn  to  it  at 
once,  and,  resting  on  it,  will  feel  that  the  mass 
of  building  on  each  side  is  approximately  equal. 
A  sense  of  repose  results  at  once,  and  conse- 


52    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

quently  the  building  appears  beautiful.  To 
illustrate  this  point,  here  is  a  sketch  of  the  front 
of  a  small  country  church. 


Fig.  4.  The  chapel  "a"  has  balance,  because  the 
axis  of  balance  is  expressed  by  the  porch.  Chapel 
' *  b, ' '  with  the  porch  shifted  to  one  side,  is  out  of  bal- 
ance, and  therefore  unbeautiful. 

In  this  case  the  porch,  being  the  most  salient 
feature,  attracts  the  eye  at  once,  and  when  the 
eye  rests  on  that,  the  mass  of  the  building  on 
each  side  seems  equal;  balance  is  the  result. 
The  higher,  heavier  mass  of  the  tower,  close  to 
the  axis,  balances  the  longer,  lower  gable,  with 
its  greater  leverage.  Then  notice  the  awkward 
result  that  follows  if  the  interesting  point  is  far 
away  at  one  side.  In  the  second  case  the  eye  is 
again  attracted  by  the  porch,  but  this  time  it 
finds  the  whole  mass  of  building  upon  one  side, 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     53 

with  only  sky  on  the  other ;  the  balance  is  lost, 
and  an  inevitable  restlessness  and  awkward- 
ness, which  destroy  one 's  artistic  pleasure,  fol- 
low.    Of  course,  this  is  an  extremely  simple 
case;  it  is  given  merely  as  a  hint  to  stimulate 
further  observation.     In  reality  the  architect 
must  keep  in  mind  not  only  the  front  but  the 
sides  and  the  rear.    He  must  imagine  the  build- 
ing as  it  appears  to  a  person  walking  all  around 
it,  with  reference  to  all  existing  trees,  or  slopes 
of  ground,  or  shrubs  near  by.    From  every  pos- 
sible view  a  really  good  building  must  have 
balance,  and  this  accounts  for  the  comparative 
failure  of  some  of  our  informal  American  coun- 
try houses.     They  seem  manifestly  to  be  de- 
signed with  one  view  point,  or  two,  in  mind; 
from  these  points  they  are  good,  perfect  in  bal- 
ance and  composition,  but  from  other  points 
the  same  buildings  are  a  mere  hodge  podge, 
and  they  lack  that  little  accent  on  the  centre  of 
balance  given  by  a  chimney  or  flower  box,  or 
some  little  point  of  interest,  that  would  have 
made  the  whole  seem  balanced  and  in  repose. 
That  is  why  the  architect  is,  as  a  rule,  so  sus- 
picious of  the  " built  picturesque";  on  one  side 
it  is  likely  to  be  in  almost  too  studied  a  balance, 


54    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

on  another  a  mere  confusion  of  changing  line 
and  restless  mass. 

There  are  a  few  points  about  the  balancing 
of  masses  that  it  is  well  to  make  clear.  First, 
there  is  in  this  matter  an  artistic  analogy  to  the 
law  of  leverage.  That  is,  a  heavy  member  close 
to  that  interesting  feature  which  expresses  the 
centre  of  balance — the  pivot,  as  it  were — will 
counterbalance  and  be  balanced  by  a  long,  low, 
lighter  member  further  from  that  point.  Sec- 
ondly, the  shapes  and  positions  of  the  masses 
themselves  affect  the  balance.  For  example,  a 
member  that  projects  always  seems  heavier  than 
a  receding  member.  That  is,  in  a  building  of 
the  "L"  type,  with  one  arm  longer  than  the 
other,  the  best  place  for  the  centre  of  interest 
is  on  the  long  side  near  the  angle,  for  then  the 
projecting  wing,  nearer  the  eye,  seems  heavier 
than  the  rest,  and  requires  a  longer  portion  to 
balance  it.  A  high  mass  usually  appears  pro- 
portionally heavier  than  a  low  mass.  So,  in  the 
chapel  mentioned  above,  although  there  is  more 
area- in  the  gable,  the  tower  seems  heavier  be- 
cause of  its  added  height. 

So  far  we  have  been  dealing  merely  with 
mass,  but  artistic  balance  has  another  compli- 


E&WS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    55 

cation.  There  is  a  balance  of  interest,  as  well 
as  a  balance  of  mere  apparent  weight.  That  is 
the  architect's  salvation,  for  when  he  is  con- 
fronted with  a  plan  that  seems  to  demand  a 
treatment  hopelessly  unbalanced,  he  can  give 
beauty  to  the  whole  by  making  the  lighter  side 
of  his  composition  so  interesting,  by  means  of 
ornament,  or  window  boxes,  or  a  projecting 
bay  window,  or  a  lattice,  that  the  attractiveness 
to  the  eye  of  both  light  side  and  heavy  side 
seems  almost  the  same,  and  consequently  the 
eye  is  at  rest,  and  repose  and  beauty  are  the 
result. 

This  is  not  an  attempt  to  treat  the  difficult 
subject  of  balance  exhaustively  but  rather  to 
set  down  the  main  principles,  and  to  give  a 
working  basis  for  the  understanding  of  the 
matter,  so  that  the  reader  may  be  able,  as  he 
looks  at  the  buildings  all  around  him  and  at 
their  settings  to  form  on  these  foundations  a 
criterion  of  criticism  for  himself. 

The  second  great  artistic  law  is  the  law  of 
rhythm,  and  it  may  be  stated  thus :  Every  beau- 
tiful building  should  be  so  composed  that  its 
units  shall  bear  some  rhythmic  relation  to  one 
another.    The  term  " rhythm' '  is  applied  to  ar- 


56    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

cliitecture  in  a  very  broad  sense.  In  most  cases 
there  does  not  exist  throughout  a  building  any 
set  repetition  of  groups  of  the  same  form  with- 
out a  break.  There  are  exceptions,  such  as 
the  Colosseum  in  Rome,*  where  the  contin- 
ued repetition  of  the  same  rhythmical  form, 
the  same  measure  almost,  consisting  of  the 
broad,  dark  mass  of  the  arch,  with  the  smaller, 
lighter  mass  of  masonry  between,  broken  by 
the  projecting  columns,  gives  a  tremendous  and 
overwhelming  dignity.  In  the  interior  of  a 
Gothic  cathedral,  Amiens,t  for  instance,  there 
is  the  same  dignity  produced  by  the  repeti- 
tion of  a  rhythmical  measure  of  the  same 
sort,  broad  arch  and  narrow  pier,  only  in  this 
case  the  unit  is  in  three  tiers,  and  each  tier 
varies  in  rhythmical  structure  from  the  others. 
First,  low  down,  there  is  the  broad  arch  that 
leads  from  nave  to  side  aisle.  Above  this  is  a 
narrow  band  of  arcading,  the  trif  orium  gallery, 
and  above  this  still  the  great  clerestory  window 
that  corresponds  in  vertical  divisions  to  the 
triforium,  but  dominates  in  richness.  Each  of 
these  complex  units  is  repeated  the  whole  length 
of  the  nave,  and  in  the  wonderful  rhythmical  ef- 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  22. 
J  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


cathedral,  amiens,  france 
(interior) 

An  example  of  the  impressive  effect  of  strongly  marked  rhythmical  design. 
See  page  56- 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     57 

feet  that  results  lies  one  reason  for  the  poetry 
of  the  whole. 

It  is  in  this  matter  of  rhythm  that  certain 
people  have  tried  to  find  an  absolute  analogy 
between  architecture  and  music,  but  this  is  an 
analogy  that  must  not  be  pushed  too  far.  Archi- 
tecture is  analogous  to  music,  but  the  analogy 
is  in  ''the  intellectual  vagueness,  the  emotional 
certainty"  of  both  arts,  as  J.  A.  Symonds  puts 
it,  and  in  the  abstract  character  of  the  forms 
used,  rather  than  in  any  mere  tricks  of  tech- 
nique, or  any  hidden  and  mystical  twinship  of 
form. 

To  try  to  find  musical  analogies  to  archi- 
tectural forms  is  amusing  and  stimulating,  but 
to  push  this  effort  too  seriously  and  too  far,  to 
try  to  distinguish  actual  chords  and  pitches  and 
complex  musical  rhythms  in  architecture,  so 
that  a  symphony  might  be  built,  or  Saint  Peter's 
played,  that  is  an  absurdity;  that  is  losing  the 
particular  charm  of  both  arts.  No,  architecture 
has  not  been  called  *  'frozen  music"  because 
there  are  scales  and  chords  and  measures  and 
rests  in  great  buildings,  but  because  both  arts 
strive  to  obtain  emotional  effects  of  the  same 
sort,  that  is,  emotional  effects  of  the  graver, 


58    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

deeper,  vaguer,  and  less  distinctly  discrimin- 
ated, more  sublime  sorts,  by  means  that  are  ab- 
stract, that  exist  by  reason  of  their  own  virtue, 
and  in  which  representation  of  actual  sights 
and  sounds  bears  but  a  secondary  place. 

Furthermore,  if  we  are  to  look  for  an  accu- 
rate analogy  to  most  architectural  rhythm,  we 
shall  find  it  in  the  rhythm  of  good  prose  rather 
than  in  that  of  music.  Architecture  has  more 
of  the  rhythm  of  a  Gregorian  chant,  or  of  Plain 
Song,  than  of  a  Beethoven  symphony;  it  has 
more  the  rhythm  of  the  flowing  English  of  a 
Pater  essay  than  of  the  poetry  of  Burns  or 
Keats.  This  is  a  point  that  must  be  insisted  on, 
for  if  an  attempt  is  made  to  find  in  every  beau- 
tiful building  the  absolute  metrical  scheme  of 
music  or  poetry,  disappointment  can  be  the  only 
result.  For  an  analogy  to  help  the  better  un- 
derstanding of  rhythm  in  architecture,  we 
must,  therefore,  turn  to  prose.  Take  a  Steven- 
son essay,  for  instance,  such  as  "El  Dorado.' 9 
When  a  sentence  from  it  is  read  out  loud,  it 
falls  naturally  into  groups  of  syllables,  phrases 
and  clauses,  freely  balancing  each  other,  each 
leading  gracefully  into  the  next,  the  whole  effect 
rising  in  waves  of  sound  into  climaxes,  or  melt- 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     59 

ing  softly  into  rests.  The  rhythm  of  a  good 
building  is  much  the  same,  except  that  in  place 
of  syllables  we  have  all  the  play  of  light  and 
shadow  and  colour  over  its  various  surfaces  and 
openings.  As  the  sentence  divides  itself  into 
freely  balancing  phrases  and  clauses,  so  the 
building  divides  itself  into  freely  balancing 
units — porticoes,  doors,  projecting  wings,  or 
sometimes  even  the  mere  pleasing  alternation  of 
window  and  wall.  As  in  the  sentence  the  phrases 
lead  gradually  and  gracefully  from  one  to  an- 
other, so  the  units  of  the  good  building  lead  one 
to  another.  As  the  sentence  has  its  climaxes 
and  its  rests,  so  the  lights  and  darks  of  a  build- 
ing surge  into  climaxes,  and  soften  into  vague- 
ness. The  Capitol  at  Washington  might  be  con- 
sidered a  building  with  three  climaxes — the 
three  great  porticoes,  and  two  rests — the  sim- 
pler wings  between  them.  The  "White  House 
has  at  each  end  a  simple  element  of  wall  and 
window  that  changes  in  the  middle  to  a  climax 
produced  by  the  insistent  alternation  of  light 
and  dark  in  the  strongly  projecting  colonnade 
in  the  centre. 

But  this  is  not  all.    All  the  different  phrases, 
or  units,  into  which  a  building  seems  to  sepa- 


60    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

rate,  may  themselves  be  strongly  rhythmical. 
So  the  repeated  alternation  of  light  and  dark 
in  colonnades  is  rhythmic;  so,  too,  is  any  re- 
peated change  of  wall  and  window;  and  the 
ornamental  details  of  a  building  have  usually 
the  strongest  felt,  the  most  strictly  metrical 
rhythm  of  all.  The  reason  that  the  cornice  with 
brackets  has  always  been  so  popular  lies  in  the 
fact  that  the  strong  rhythmic  repetition  over 
and  over  again  of  the  light  brackets  and  the 
shadows  between  binds  together  into  one  whole 
all  the  looser  rhythms  of  the  building  it  crowns, 
as  the  insistent  bass  of  a  Spanish  dance  binds 
together  its  flowing  melodies.  For  the  same 
reason,  in  a  complex  building  of  varied  rhythm 
unity  is  produced  by  the  repetition  here  and 
there  of  units  with  strong  rhythmic  character ; 
for  example,  a  group  of  windows  spaced 
equally,  or  a  colonnade  of  the  same  number  of 
columns,  or  sometimes  merely  bands  of  repeated 
ornament,  with  the  result  that  the  eye  every- 
where glimpses  some  element  that  sets,  as  it 
were,  one  rhythmic  tone  for  the  whole  building. 
To  these  horizontal  rhythms  there  must  be 
added  vertical  rhythms,  before  a  complete  idea 
of  the  rhythmic  content  of  a  building  can  be 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     61 

gained.  These  vertical  rhythms,  caused  by  hori- 
zontal divisions,  intermediate  cornices,  tiers  of 
windows,  and  the  like  are  of  particular  import- 
ance in  tall  buildings ;  and  where  there  are  many 
stories  of  the  same  height,  as  in  so  many  of  our 
office  buildings  or  apartment  houses,  monotony 
must  be  avoided  by  grouping  the  stories  in  some 
way,  by  making  the  bottom  stories  count  to- 
gether as  a  basement,  and  the  upper  ones  as  a 
crowning  feature.  This  gives  at  once  a  pleas- 
ing variety  to  the  rhythm,  without  destroying  it. 
One  may  see  a  simple  example  of  vertical 
rhythm  in  the  front  of  the  Vendramini  Palace.* 

Closely  allied  to  this  question  of  rhythm  is 
the  next  great  law  of  building  beautifully,  the 
law  of  proportion.  According  to  this  law,  a 
beautiful  building  should  be  well  proportioned. 
The  apparent  vagueness  of  the  law  will  disap- 
pear as  its  terms  are  denned  and  amplified,  and 
it  can  be  stated  in  no  more  definite  form  that  is 
not  unduly  long. 

Good  proportion,  broadly  speaking,  is  the 
quality  possessed  by  any  building  whose  several 
parts  are  so  related  as  to  give  a  pleasing  im- 
pression. It  is  primarily  a  quality  of  the  re- 
lationship of  all  the  units  in  a  building,  rather 

*See  the  Plate  opposite  page  46. 


62    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

than  a  quality  of  the  units  themselves.  Indeed, 
it  might  be  truly  stated  that  between  certain 
very  wide  limits  there  can  be  in  a  single  element 
of  a  building  no  such  thing  as  good  proportion. 
For  instance,  in  some  cases  a  high,  narrow  win- 
dow, like  the  great  clerestory  windows  of 
Amiens,  is  in  perfect  proportion,  but  imagine 
the  awkwardness  of  such  a  window  in  the  base- 
ment story  of  a  long,  low  building.  It  would 
look  hopelessly  out  of  proportion. 

It  has  been  claimed  that  the  feeling  of  good 
proportion  is  produced  when  the  parts  of  a 
building  are  in  simple  arithmetical  ratios,  like 
that  of  two  and  three,  or  two  and  four,  and  with 
this  in  mind  attempts  have  been  made  to  codify 
arithmetically  what  good  proportion  is.*  For 
instance,  it  has  been  claimed  that  the  typical 
Gothic  cathedral  is  based  on  the  equilateral  tri- 
angle; that  Greek  temples  were  designed  ac- 
cording to  complex  geometric  principles;  that 
the  height  of  the  best  door  is  exactly  twice  its 
width,  and  so  forth,  but  this  can  be  considered 
true  only  to  a  limited  extent.  It  is  better  to 
consider  architectural  proportion,  as  its  name 
suggests,  rather  as  the  relationship  between  the 

*  See,  for  a  statement  of  this  theory,  G.  L.  Raymond's, 
"The  Essentials  of  Aesthetics." 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     63 

diverse  ratios  of  height  and  breadth,  etc.,  of  all 
the  units  of  a  building  taken  together  than  as 
any  innate  beauty  in  simple  ratios  themselves. 
The  architect  may  have  definite  ideas  of  ratio  in 
his  mental  background,  but  the  best  design  is 
always  produced  by  the  constant  free  adjust- 
ment of  size  and  ratio  in  the  units  of  a  building 
until  the  whole  takes  shape  as  a  single,  beau- 
tiful object,  until  "good  proportion"  is  secured. 
It  is  this  larger  side  of  the  subject  of  propor- 
tion, this  question  of  the  relationship  of  various 
units,  doors,  windows,  etc.,  to  each  other  and  to 
the  whole,  that  the  observer  of  architecture 
must  keep  in  mind,  rather  than  the  ratios  of  the 
units  themselves.  In  a  good  building,  each  unit, 
however  beautiful  in  itself,  is  in  reality  only  a 
part  of  the  whole,  and  it  is  as  such  that  it  should 
always  be  judged. 

When  proportion  is  regarded  in  this  larger 
light,  it  will  at  once  be  evident  that  the  law  of 
proportion  is  closely  related  to  the  next  great 
aesthetic  consideration,  the  law  that  a  building 
must  be  harmonious  to  be  beautiful.  Indeed,  if 
harmony  were  merely  a  matter  of  proportional 
harmony,  we  might  consider  the  subject  already 
covered;  but  harmony  in  a  building  covers  a 


64    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

wider  field  than  the  mere  harmonious  propor- 
tion of  the  various  parts.  There  must  be  har- 
mony of  expression  as  well,  and  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent harmony  of  style.  In  a  word,  in  a  beau- 
tiful building,  not  a  single  element  must  be  so 
designed  as  to  appear  disturbingly  distinct  and 
alone  and  separate  from  the  whole,  for  the  mo- 
ment this  occurs,  unity  is  lost,  and  without  unity 
there  can  be  no  beauty.  Harmony,  then,  is 
threefold,  harmony  of  proportion,  harmony  of 
expression,  and  harmony  of  style. 

By  harmony  of  expression  is  meant  a  har- 
mony in  the  character  and  purpose  of  a  building 
as  seen  in  its  exterior  forms.  For  instance,  in 
a  building  intended  to  express  intimacy,  se- 
clusion, privacy  in  all  of  its  parts,  as  in  a  ma- 
sonic hall,  or  a  small  country  cottage,  it  would 
be  a  mistake  to  have  an  enormous  entrance,  sug- 
gesting the  ingress  and  exit  of  great  crowds  of 
people.  It  is  the  one  blot  upon  the  beauty  of 
most  of  the  English  cathedrals,  even  the, best, 
that  there  exists  a  distinct  discord  of  expres- 
sion in  their  west  fronts ;  for  all  their  tremen- 
dous length  and  all  their  richness,  their  feeling 
of  enormous  size,  of  spiritual  invitation  and  of 
democracy  is  contradicted  by  the  forbidding  im- 


-  LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     65 

pression  given  by  the  tiny  doors  through  which 
most  of  them  are  entered. 

By  harmony  of  style  is  meant  a  harmony  in 
the  forms  used,  not  so  much  in  their  general 
proportion  as  in  their  details,  such  as  mould- 
ings, carved  or  modelled  ornament,  the  use  of 
different  materials,  and  so  forth.    That  is,  the 
moment  two  forms  are  used  in  the  same  build- 
ing which  belong  to  obviously  different  categ- 
ories, harmony  of  style  is  lost.    For  instance, 
a  building  in  which  great  Gothic  windows  and 
pinnacles  were  used  in  one  part,  while  another 
part  was  severely  classic,  would  give  a  feeling 
of  restless  incoherence,  fatal  to  any  beauty. 
By  harmony  of  style  it  is  not  meant  that  a 
building  must  be  rigidly  in  one  of  the  so-called 
historical  " styles,' '  for  stylistic  purity  is  some- 
thing vastly  different  from  aesthetic  harmony. 
There  are  many  charming  buildings  of  mixed 
historic  style  that,  nevertheless,  possess  this 
quality:  a  notable  example  is  the  church  of 
Saint  Eustache  in  Paris.    In  this  case  a  church 
absolutely    Gothic   in   conception,   with   lofty 
vaults  and  small  piers  to  support  them,  with 
great  window  space  and  little  wall,  is  treated 
with  detail  of  a  distinctly  classical  kind,  pan- 


66     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

elled  pilasters,  Corinthian  capitals,  ornament  of 
a  renaissance  character,  hut  so  skilfully  have 
these  details  heen  modified,  and  so  frankly  have 
they  been  adapted  to  the  Gothic  form  of  the 
building,  that  there  is  no  feeling  of  discord. 
Very  many  of  our  best  American  buildings  are 
equally  free ;  Eoman  arches  are  combined  with 
Greek  mouldings,  and  the  whole  treated  in  a  free 
and  modern  manner.  For  an  example  of  per- 
fect architectural  harmony,  consider  the  front 
of  the  Boston  Public  Library.*  Its  universal 
popularity  is  sufficient  evidence  of  the  har- 
mony of  its  proportions;  and  the  harmony 
of  expression  is  evidenced  by  the  quiet  dignity 
of  every  detail,  from  the  restful  lines  of  the 
tile  roof  to  the  strong  and  simple  basement. 
Harmony  of  style  is  also  evident.  The  cornice 
seems  an  adequate  crown  to  the  whole,  the  round 
arches  fall  most  happily  into  the  scheme,  every 
smallest  moulding  seems  studied  and  designed 
in  the  same  spirit  of  quiet  and  reposeful  deli- 
cacy. It  is  this  unity,  this  harmony  and  the  ap- 
parent simplicity  that  results,  which  are  the 
main  reasons  for  the  delightful  and  appealing 
charm  of  this  library;  its  perfect  harmony 
makes  it  one  of  the  best  loved  of  all  modern 
American  architectural  masterpieces, 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


eft       .tJ 

o    3 

b   -a 
.   s 

si 


U        ~ 

i  * 

B       2 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE    67 

There  remains  but  one  more  aesthetic  rule 
or  canon  to  be  considered :  the  law,  as  we  have 
stated  it,  of  climax.  The  necessity  for  some  cli- 
max, some  spot  in  a  building  more  interesting 
than  the  rest,  has  already  been  suggested  in  the 
discussion  of  balance.  The  eye,  as  it  wanders 
over  a  large  building,  grows  tired  if  there  is  no 
single  feature  on  which  it  can  rest,  and  any  eye 
exhaustion  is  fatal  to  beauty,  just  as  mental 
exhaustion  is  fatal  to  beauty  in  a  long  piece  of 
prose  in  which  there  is  no  climax  on  which 
the  mind  can  fix.  But  in  architecture  the 
need  of  a  centre  of  interest  is  slighter,  and  in 
some  buildings  this  climax  is  so  subtly  treated 
as  entirely  to  escape  notice.  In  the  New  York 
Post  Office,  for  instance,  there  seems  no  cen- 
tre of  interest,  no  climax.  In  reality,  the 
whole  magnificent  colonnade  is  itself  the  centre 
of  interest;  its  large  size  is  compensated  for  by 
the  regularity  of  the  repetition  of  the  motives. 
In  particular,  this  is  seen  to  be  true  when  one 
considers  the  building  as  a  four-sided  whole, 
and  not  as  a  single  facade,  for  the  simple,  un- 
broken rhythm  of  the  back  and  sides  leads  the 
eye  inevitably  around  the  corners  until  the  main 
front  comes  into  view,  and  the  eye  rests,  re- 
freshed and  enriched,  on  the  noble  colonnade, 


#. 


68     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

a  worthy  climax  to  the  whole.  So  the  dome  of 
the  Capitol  at  Washington  *  binds  the  whole 
complex  building  together  because  of  its  beauti- 
ful dominance ;  and  in  the  case  of  Saint  Peter  's 
at  Rome,  that  superlatively  lovely  dome  fulfills 
a  similar  and  still  more  difficult  service,  for  here 
the  greater  portion  of  the  exterior  is  bald,  con- 
fused, and  out  of  scale;  yet  all  is  passed  over 
and  forgiven  because  of  the  perfect  beauty  of 
the  centre  of  interest,  the  great  dome,  t 

A  failure  to  fulfill  this  condition  of  beauty  is 
one  of  the  greatest  faults  of  our  modern  Ameri- 
can architecture.  Lost  in  the  multitude  of  win- 
dows our  modern  exigencies  demand,  or  often 
overwhelmed  with  ideas  of  bigness  and  gran- 
deur, the  American  architect  too  often  produces 
dreary  monotony,  when,  if  he  had  concentrated 
his  richness  on  one  spot  to  fix  and  delight  the 
eye,  he  would  have  produced  a  truer  and  simpler 
beauty.  If  only  our  architects  and  builders  had 
kept  this  idea  always  in  mind,  how  different  our 
streets  would  have  been !  Instead  of  that  dreary 
succession  of  windows,  windows,  windows,  set 
in  walls  covered,  often,  with  meaningless  and 
ill-applied  ornament,  there  would  have  been  an 
entire  simplicity,  with  here  and  there  an  ele- 

*See  the  Plate  opposite  page  32. 
f  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  216. 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE     69 

ment  of  real  beauty  and  grace ;  perhaps  a  door- 
way, perhaps  merely  one  little  carved  plaque 
or  shield  to  centre  one's  wandering  interest. 
Then  such  a  street  would  be  restful  and  charm- 
ing, like  some  of  the  old  alleys  of  Philadelphia, 
or  the  lovely-doored  byways  of  Portsmouth  or 
Salem. 

There  is  one  corollary  and  result  of  these 
greater  laws  which  deserves  notice  because  of 
its  apparent  universality.  This  is  the  fact  that 
every  beautiful  building  as  a  whole,  and  many 
of  its  decorative  elements  in  themselves,  have 
a  threefold  composition,  a  beginning,  middle 
and  end.  Most  of  the  pleasing  columns,  for  ex- 
ample (with  the  one  exception  of  the  Greek 
Doric  column),  have  this  tripartite  character — 
a  base,  a  shaft  and  a  capital.  The  Boston  Pub- 
lic Library*  has  a  strong  basement  story,  a 
higher,  more  graceful  portion  above  this,  and 
a  crown  of  roof  and  cornice.  As  one  analyzes 
the  buildings  that  please  him,  he  will  be  more 
and  more  struck  with  the  universality  of  this 
threefold  composition.  From  the  tall  sky- 
scraper with  its  strong  stone  basement,  its  sim- 
ple brick  shaft  of  many  stories  above,  and  its 
cap  of  richly  ornamented  cornice,  or  pierced 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  66. 


70    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

parapet,  or  upward  pointing  roof,  to  the  simple 
classical  entablature,  with  its  architrave,  frieze 
and  cornice,  he  will  find  everywhere  this  three- 
fold form. 

The  explanation  of  this  is  simple.  It  is  analo- 
gous to  the  ideal  structure  of  an  essay  or  a 
speech,  with  its  introduction,  its  body  of  argu- 
ment and  exposition,  and  its  conclusion.  When 
one  looks  at  anything  beautiful,  his  eye  demands 
that  this  object  be  definitely  limited  at  the  ends, 
and  at  the  top  and  bottom,  for  if  there  is  no  lim- 
itation save  the  mere  unadorned  top  and  base  of 
the  building,  a  feeling  of  indecision  will  prob- 
ably be  produced,  a  feeling  that  the  whole  is 
weakly  indeterminate.  That  is  why  whenever 
one  sees  a  building  without  some  little  base 
moulding  or  band,  or  a  building  chopped  off 
square  at  the  top,  hard,  uncompromising, 
straight,  there  is  always  a  certain  shock 
produced:  however  beautiful  in  itself  is  the 
shaft  of  a  building,  without  some  base  and  some 
cap  it  will  be  inevitably  unsatisfactory.  On  the 
other  hand  a  strong  base  and  a  rich  cap  go  far 
towards  making  up  for  poor  design  in  the  rest 
of  a  building.  A  glance  at  the  Capitol  at  Wash- 
ington, or  the  Louvre  colonnade,  or  the  New 


LAWS  OF  FORM  IN  ARCHITECTURE      71 

York  Post  Office,  or  the  Boston  Public  Library 
will  reveal  this  principle  at  once. 

This  discussion  of  the  fundamental  basis 
of  aesthetic  composition  in  architecture  does 
not  pretend  to  be  final  or  complete.  In  such 
a  personal  thing  as  artistic  pleasure  there  are 
bound  to  be  wide  differences  of  opinion.  Even 
the  so-called  laws  that  have  been  stated  may- 
phrase  themselves  differently  to  different  peo- 
ple, and  other  new  requirements  of  beauty  add 
themselves  to  the  list.  There  can  be  no  dogma 
stated  to  which  all  will  agree,  consequently  the 
laws  that  are  given  above  must  be  applied  with 
latitude  and  freedom;  they  must  be  considered 
not  as  formulae,  but  as  mental  stimulants;  the 
truly  appreciative  critic  of  architecture  will  not 
stop  with  them,  but  will  use  them  as  a  basis  for 
making  his  own  decisions  with  regard  to  the 
buildings  he  attempts  to  value. 

After  all,  good  and  bad  are  relative  terms,  and 
particularly  in  such  a  complex  art  as  architec- 
ture, and  in  such  a  complex  object  as  a  building 
it  becomes  dangerous  to  point  to  this  as  good 
and  that  as  bad.  The  enjoyment  of  architec- 
ture is  a  personal  matter,  and  the  person  who 
attempts  for  himself  sincerely  to  form  his  own 


72    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

judgments  about  the  buildings  he  sees,  and  who 
attempts  to  find  reasons  for  his  judgments  on 
real  and  thoughtful  convictions,  is  doing  more 
for  the  growth  of  architectural  taste  than  the 
one  who  accepts  blindly  the  taste  of  the  most 
competent  critics.  The  reader  must  remember, 
too,  that  in  this  chapter  but  one  side  of  the 
broad  art  of  architecture  has  been  treated;  it 
has  been  considered  as  bald  and  bloodless  form, 
void  of  other  content.  But  just  as  architecture 
is  more  than  bald  form,  just  as  it  is  bald  form, 
clothing  and  expressing  and  growing  out  of 
human  life.  50  architectural  appreciation  must 
include  this  human,  subjective,  and  expressive 
side  as  well  as  the  purely  aasthetic.  On  the 
other  hand,  just  as  there  can  be  no  architecture 
without  form,  so  architectural  criticism,  unless 
it  be  founded  on  a  strong  and  sane  aesthetic 
basis,  becomes  vague  and  sentimental.  It  is  a 
framework  for  this  aesthetic  basis  that  this 
chapter  has  tried  to  give,  and  it  only  remains 
for  the  reader  to  clothe  the  framework  with  his 
own  personality  and  by  his  own  observations, 
until  beauty  is  seen  neither  as  a  matter  of  geo- 
metric ratios,  nor  of  vague  and  cloudy  intui- 
tion. 


CHAPTER   III 


It  is  one  of  the  charms  of  architecture  that  its 
component  elements  are  in  themselves  few  in 
number  and  simple  in  structure.  The  very  fact 
that  all  the  beauty  of  a  building  lies  in  relation- 
ships of  simple  and  easily  comprehended  parts 
has  forced  the  architect  to  study  these  relation- 
ships to  the  last  degree,  so  that  a  really  great 
building  has  in  it  more  absolute  perfection  of 
pure  design  than  any  other  of  man's  works, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  the  world's  great- 
est music.  The  architect  can  invent  so  little  that 
his  effort  must  be  closely  concentrated ;  his  ap- 
peal to  the  public  is  so  carefully  circumscribed 
that  it  must  be  made  with  all  the  more  poig- 
nance,  and  the  materials  at  his  disposal  are  so 
limited  that  each  one  of  them  must  be  as  per- 
fect as  he  can  possibly  make  it,  for  no  charm  of 
face  or  human  form,  no  allure  of  lovely  senti- 
ment, can  blind  one  to  a  badly  designed  build- 
ing's artistic  faults. 

73 


74    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

The  appeal  of  a  building  to  the  senses  is  pro- 
duced by  two  things  only,  the  play  of  light  and 
shade  over  its  varied  surfaces,  and  the  colour 
of  the  materials  of  which  it  is  composed.  This 
play  of  light  and  shade,  in  turn,  is  produced  by 
the  treatment  of  simple,  surprisingly  simple, 
elements,  that  are  necessitated  by  the  require- 
ments of  the  building  itself.  The  human  mind 
always  works  up  from  the  necessary  to  the  beau- 
tiful. Primitive  man  had  to  make  a  hut  before 
he  could  make  it  a  delight  to  the  eye.  It  is 
much  the  same  now ;  the  architect  must  make  a 
building  before  he  can  make  it  a  work  of  art,  and 
one  feels  instinctively  that  the  most  beautiful 
buildings  are  those  in  which  the  necessities  of 
the  building  are  most  clearly  observed,  and 
most  clearly  expressed.  It  follows,  then,  that 
the  beautiful  building  is  produced  by  the  ar- 
rangement, in  accordance  with  the  require- 
ments of  beauty,  of  elements  primarily  struc- 
tural. 

The  first  homes  of  mankind  may  well  have 
been  caves,  walls  and  roof  of  rough  rock, 
smoothed  crudely,  perhaps,  but  with  little  of 
real  architecture  about  them,  despite  attempts 
at  mural  decoration,  evidences  of  the  love  of 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  75 

beauty  that  seems  coextensive  with  humanity. 
Nor  were  the  simple  huts  of  bushes  and  rush 
and  wattle  of  great  architectural  moment. 
Their  lines  were  too  simple  and  their  require- 
ments too  small  to  admit  of  great  composition. 
They  are,  nevertheless,  interesting  to  the  archi- 
tectural critic,  because  they  show  us  the  ele- 
mental necessities  of  a  building — walls  and 
roof :  a  roof  to  keep  out  the  wind  and  the  rain, 
and  walls  to  support  the  roof  and  give  height 
inside,  as  well  as  to  keep  out  the  cold. 

To  this  day,  these  two  things,  walls  and  roofs, 
are  the  most  fundamental  and  the  most  import- 
ant of  the  architect's  materials,  for  they  deter- 
mine the  whole  shape  and  size  of  the  building. 
Country  house,  office  building,  church,  factory, 
all  demand  walls  and  roofs,  and  the  wall  shapes 
and  heights,  projections  and  recesses,  that  a 
building  requires  determine  absolutely  its  aes- 
thetic composition  and  therefore  its  effect. 
Their  importance  is  at  once  apparent.  They  are 
the  framework  of  the  whole  artistic  scheme  of 
the  building,  and  to  them  will  be  due  a  great 
deal  of  a  building's  effect. 

The  first  thing  that  is  required  of  a  wall  is 
solidity.    Whatever  the  material,  stone,  brick, 


76    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

wood,  metal,  the  wall  must  be  strong  enough  to 
do  its  work,  and  solid  enough  to  keep  out  the 
weather.  This  should  be  at  once  apparent  to 
the  observer,  and  any  simply  treated,  well-built 
wall  will  give  this  effect.  There  is  nothing  more 
dignified,  more  restful  to  the  eye,  than  a  cut 
stone  wall  correctly  used ;  it  is  only  when  there 
is  too  much  attempt  at  ornamentation,  so  that 
the  apparent  strength  of  the  wall  is  decreased, 
that  restlessness  results. 

The  most  successful  treatments  of  a  wall, 
then,  are  those  in  which  the  structure  of  the  wall 
is  expressed.  Take  an  old  New  England 
eighteenth  century  farmhouse,  nestling  in  lilac 
bushes  and  old  elms.  It  has  a  wall  of  wide  clap- 
boards, grey  and  weather-beaten,  and  corner 
boards  sheathing  the  corners,  perhaps  with  dec- 
orated capitals.  It  is  delightful,  unassuming, 
sincere,  and  a  great  part  of  the  reason  for  this 
lies  just  in  that  simple,  restful  expanse  of  grey 
wood,  so  obviously  designed  for  its  purpose, 
with  the  corner  boards  giving  just  a  touch  of 
vertical  feeling.  Then  try  to  find  some  house 
of  the  period  of  1870,  with  jig-saw  work  scrolls, 
and  the  shingles  of  the  walls  carefully  cut  into 
patterns,  zigzags,  or  wavy  curves  or  what  not? 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS         77 

or  go  through  our  cities  and  pick  out  some  os- 
tentatious office  building  or  apartment  house 
whose  walls  are  covered  with  a  maze  of  terra 
cotta  ornament,  and  see  how  unsatisfactory  the 
effect  is.  The  wall  is  lost,  there  is  no  repose, 
only  a  restless  wandering  of  the  eye.  In  a 
Gothic  cathedral,  such  as  Notre  Dame,  where  at 
first  sight  the  wall  seems  covered  with  orna- 
ment, clear  spaces  are  left,  and  the  decorative 
lines  are  all  strongly  structural  in  feeling,  so 
that  the  expression  of  wall  is  given.  There  must 
always  be  this  restful  strength  somewhere  in 
every  good  building.* 

The  same  facts  apply  to  brick  walls;  here, 
also,  there  must  be  quiet  repose.  Too  obvious 
pattern  in  the  brick  work,  too  great  variations 
of  colour  are  bad,  because  by  them  the  wall  is 
broken  up  and  its  apparent  strength  reduced. 
Quiet  patterns  of  subtle  colour  tones,  such  as 
are  used  in  much  Tudor  English  work,  Hampton 
Court  Palace,  for  instance,  are  pleasing;  they 
vary  the  monotony,  without  detracting  from  the 
strength:  but  they  must  be  unobtrusive.  For 
the  same  reason,  it  is  dangerous  to  mix  brick 
and  stone,  or  brick  and  terra  cotta  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  the  unity  of  the  wall  is  marred.    Ac- 

*See  the  Plate  opposite  page  78. 


78    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

cents  of  stone  in  a  brick  wall  are  good,  if  they 
are  in  important  structural  positions,  key- 
stones over  arches,  for  example,  or  architraves 
— frames — around  openings,  or  courses  of  stone 
at  the  corners  of  a  building — quoins — or  wall 
caps  or  cornices  or  bases,  for  if  rightly  treated, 
they  appear  to  strengthen  the  wall.  Sometimes 
even  a  shield  or  a  panel  of  stone  set  in  an  in- 
teresting or  important  position  is  exceedingly 
charming,  but  the  hit-or-miss  insertion  of  panels 
and  garlands  and  shields  that  is  so  much  prac- 
tised by  our  cheaper  architects  and  real  estate 
builders  is  productive  of  nothing  but  confusion. 
Better,  every  time,  a  monotonous  but  sincere 
and  simple  wall  than  an  ostentatious  eyesore. 

For  the  same  reason  the  panelling  of  stone 
walls  is  dangerous,  unless  the  panelling  is  kept 
very  quiet  and  unobtrusive.  Simple,  shallow 
panels  are  often  charming:  their  delicate  lines 
seem  to  emphasize  the  strength  and  solidity  of 
the  wall,  but  the  moment  they  become  coarse, 
and  are  framed  by  too  heavy  mouldings,  the 
restfulness  of  the  wall  is  gone.  Panelling  of 
walls  of  wood  is  quite  another  matter,  for  the 
structural  qualities  of  wood,  the  comparatively 
small  size  of  the  pieces  obtainable,  and  the  fact 


M  O 

<    ^ 


<    « 


C  t- 

8^ 


oft 

J8(8 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  79 

that  it  warps  and  shrinks  continually  demand 
some  treatment  expressing  this  quality.  Wood 
panelling,  therefore,  is  a  correct  expression  of 
material,  and  is  good  in  general,  but  even  with 
wooden  panelling  the  panels  can  be  too  deeply 
sunk,  and  too  heavily  moulded. 

All  walls,  then,  should  be  treated  so  that  their 
function  and  their  structure  are  expressed. 
They  should  be  ornamented  sparingly,  and  such 
ornament  as  they  have  should  be  carefully  de- 
signed, so  as  not  to  diminish  their  apparent 
strength.  Eepose  is  an  absolute  necessity.  Or- 
namented caps  they  may  have,  and  accented 
bases  to  express  foundation,  and  the  corners  or 
the  borders  of  openings  may  be  accented  by 
mouldings,  or  bands  of  differing  materials. 
They  may  even  be  panelled,  provided  the  pan- 
elling be  delicate  and  quiet,  but  a  wall  can  never 
be  beautiful  without  that  quiet  dignity  and  that 
restful  simplicity  that  only  careful  proportion 
and  sincere  expression  can  give. 

Yet  there  can  be  too  much  wall.  Common 
sense  must  be  our  mentor  in  architecture  as  in 
morality,  and  always  the  use  to  which  a  build- 
ing is  put  must  determine  its  design.  Our  mod- 
ern world  demands  light,  and  floods  of  it,  and 


80    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

our  buildings  demand  adequate  doorways  for 
entrance  and  exit.  A  building  where  there  is 
obviously  too  much  wall  and  too  little  window 
for  its  purpose  will  look  like  a  tomb — gloomy 
and  repelling — just  as  a  building  where  there 
is  an  excess  of  window  looks  light-headed  and 
unstable.  But  whatever  the  amount  of  wall,  it 
must  be  simply  treated  and  its  nature  sincerely 
expressed. 

A  walk  through  any  of  our  cities  will  reveal 
the  woeful  lack  of  regard  for  this  that  has  been 
rife  in  our  country  too  long.  We  are  improving 
little  by  little,  and  the  value  of  restful  wall  is 
coming  to  be  more  and  more  appreciated,  but 
there  is  still  far  to  go.  For  one  building  like 
the  Ethical  Culture  Meeting  House  in  New 
York,  with  all  its  stalwart,  strong-walled  dig- 
nity, or  the  simple,  restful  masses  of  some  of 
the  new  houses  in  the  suburbs  of  Chicago, 
there  are  thousands  which  add  to  the  ner- 
vousness of  our  life  and  our  mental  exhaustion 
by  forcing  upon  us  immense  areas  of  meaning- 
less ornament.  It  is  no  wonder  that  we  have 
grown  to  appreciate  with  even  too  great  an  en- 
thusiasm, the  simple,  unassuming  English  cot- 
tage in  a  Cotswold  valley,  or  the  rugged  houses 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  81 

of  our  own  bleak  New  England  countryside ;  for 
in  them,  at  least,  in  the  crude  half -timbering  or 
stuccoed  masonry  or  hand-wrought  shingle, 
there  is  more  than  the  mellow  beauty  of  age  and 
sentiment :  there  is  the  true  charm  and  clear  re- 
pose of  unbroken  areas  of  simple  wall. 

The  matter  of  roofs  is  more  complex.  At 
some  time  the  cave  or  the  rush  hut  that  was  his 
first  home  became  insufficient  for  primitive  man, 
and  he  discovered  that  he  could  lay  tree  trunks 
flat  on  earthen  walls,  and  thus  make  himself  a 
flat  roof.  So  there  are  two  main  classes  of 
roofs,  flat  roofs,  and  roofs  with  sloping  sides  or 
vaults.  Assyrian  bas  reliefs  show  us  domed 
houses,  recalling  the  conical  form  of  the  primi- 
tive hut.  Egyptian  roofs,  on  the  other  hand, 
seem  always  to  have  been  flat. 

The  two  classes  of  roofs  have  widely  differ- 
ing uses.  The  flat  roof  was  developed  chiefly 
among  those  peoples  living  in  hot,  dry  countries. 
It  furnished  a  most  useful  outdoor  living  room. 
As  such  we  find  it  used  universally  in  nearly  all 
the  Oriental  countries,  particularly  in  the 
tropics.  In  colder  climates  where  outdoor  life 
had  less  charm,  and  in  countries  where  there  is 
excessive  rainfall,  or  heavy  snow  that  must  be 


82    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

disposed  of  quickly,  we  find  the  sloping  roof 
most  used. 

The  simplest  sloping  roof  is  the  gable  roof, 
but  this  roof  is  capable  of  endless  modifications. 
There  is  a  whole  gamut  of  varying  effects  and 
expressions  between  the  dignified  formality  of 
the  low  roof  of  the  Greek  temple,  with  its  gables 
— pediments — decorated  with  sculpture,  and  the 
fantastic  and  romantic  effect  of  a  German 
mediaeval  village,  with  its  myriad  steep  roofs 
and  peaked  gables.  In  the  north  of  England — 
in  Yorkshire — the  stone  built  houses  nestle  low 
and  sturdy  to  the  ground;  the  gables  are  low, 
and  the  roofs  comparatively  flat.  The  effect 
is  quite  in  harmony  with  rolling  moor  and  bleak, 
wind-swept  uplands.  In  Switzerland  the  same 
solidity,  the  same  strength,  the  same  kinship 
with  wild  and  bleak  Nature,  is  given  to  the 
chalets  by  the  same  wide  and  gently  sloping 
roofs.  That  is  the  reason  a  Swiss  chalet,  so 
lovely,  so  perfect  in  its  place,  seems  always  so 
fantastic  and  meaningless,  set  down  in  flat  civi- 
lization. 

For  roofs,  so  absolutely  essential  to  our  pro- 
tection from  the  wildness  and  bitterness  of  Na- 
ture, have,  for  that  reason,  an  especial  relation 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  83 

to  natural  conditions,  and  all  the  natural  con- 
ditions of  any  situation  must  be  taken  into  ac- 
count in  the  design  of  a  roof  to  suit  that  situa- 
tion. There  are  flat-roofed  Italianesque  villas 
on  our  Maine  coast,  but  they  look  cold,  wind- 
shaken,  uncompromisingly  naked,  like  a  Philip- 
pino  shivering  in  Coney  Island.  Any  roof  that 
looks,  as  these  do,  strangely  uncouth  and  out 
of  place,  is  a  roof  ill-designed.  The  good  roofs 
are  those  which  seem  to  have  grown  where  they 
stand,  in  perfect  harmony  with  their  surround- 
ings. 

The  material  of  which  a  roof  is  built  is  an- 
other important  factor  that  must  be  taken  into 
account  in  any  consideration  of  roofs.  Tile  is 
sunny,  warm,  full  of  interest,  and  it  seems  to 
demand  a  low  roof,  for  too  much  tile  would  be 
too  interesting,  and  the  building  itself  would 
lose  its  value,  be  merely  an  appendage  to  a  roof, 
like  a  very  little  girl  in  a  very  large  hat.  Slate 
is  colder  but  more  adaptable,  formal  as  well  as 
informal,  suitable  for  the  steeper  roofs,  and  its 
increasing  use  is  a  hopeful  sign  of  our  times. 
Shingles,  also,  treated  simply  and  unobtru- 
sively, are  attractive  in  texture.  Thatch  may  be 
used  on  small  garden  houses  and  the  like,  but 


84    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

it  is  perishable  and  heavy,  and  it  would  be 
painfully  out  of  place  in  our  workaday  world. 
There  are  a  thousand  varieties  of  gabled 
roofs,  and  their  change  and  variety  is  a  contin- 
ual joy.  Our  broad  New  England  gambrels — 
gabled  roofs  with  a  double  slope — are  the  charm 
of  many  a  fascinating  old  town.  Small  or  large, 
there  is  about  them  all  such  a  comforting  solid- 
ity, such  a  simple  and  beautiful  homeliness,  that 
it  is  not  strange  they  are  coming  to  be  so  widely 


Old  House  in  Kennebunk,  Maine. 

Fig.  5.    This  house  owes  much  of  its  charm  to  the 
simple  lines  of  its  gambrel  roof. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  85 

imitated.  It  only  needs  the  artist's  touch  in  the 
relation  of  the  slopes,  so  that  they  shall  be 
neither  too  much  the  same,  nor  yet  too  different, 
with  the  lower  slope  too  vertical — a  touch,  alas, 
all  too  rare  in  our  modern  speculative  suburbs 
— to  make  a  gambrel  roof  an  object  of  distinc- 
tion to  a  whole  community,  like  the  Warner 
House  in  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire,  or  the 
old  farmhouse  that  is  here  illustrated.* 

There  is  another  type  of  roof  coming  more 
and  more  into  use  that  is,  perhaps,  even  more 
adaptable,  the  hipped  roof.  Here  the  roof 
slopes  up  from  all  four  sides  at  once,  instead  of 
from  two  only,  as  in  the  gabled  roof  house.  The 
result  is  that  the  line  of  demarcation  between 
roof  and  walls  is  a  continual  horizontal  line  on 
all  four  sides  of  the  building,  without  the  trian- 
gular wall  spaces  of  a  gable.  This  produces 
at  once  a  great  dignity  and  restfulness  of  feel- 
ing that  is  tremendously  valuable.  The  French 
chateaux  of  the  Loire  valley,  perhaps  the  most 
dignified  group  of  country  houses  in  the  world, 
all  have  hipped  roofs.  Most  of  the  Italian  villas 
have  them  as  well,  and  so  have  many  of  the  most 
beautiful  Georgian  mansions  of  England.  The 
simplicity  of  the  wall  surfaces  that  these  roofs 

♦See  Fig.  5,  page  84, 


86    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

produce,  and  the  variety  and  charm  of  their  own 
form — the  difference,  for  example,  between  the 
actual  slope  of  the  roof  itself,  and  the  slopes  of 
the  intersections,  or  hips,  between  its  adjacent 
sides — make  a  whole  composition,  dignified  and 
quiet,  attractive  and  interesting,  with  just  a 
shade  of  pleasant  formality. 


/3L3« 


^3&St 


Newton  Hall,  Near  Cambridge,  England. 

Pig.  6.  An  example  of  the  quiet  formality  of  the 
Georgian  hipped  roof.  Note  the  pediment  over  the 
entrance. 

There  are  as  many  possible  varieties  of 
hipped  as  of  gabled  roof,  produced  by  the  in- 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  87 

tersections  of  hipped  roofs  over  projections  of 
the  building,  and  by  the  varying  slopes.  The 
difference  in  expression,  for  instance,  between 
the  hipped  copper  roofs  of  the  Cohimbia  Uni- 
versity buildings,  low  and  simple,  and  the  great 
slate  roof  of  Chenonceaux,  or  between  either  of 
these  and  the  quietness  of  an  English  Georgian 
manor,  will  give  some  idea  of  the  adaptability 
of  the  form.  Combinations  of  hips  and  gables 
can  be  delightfully  used,  too,  as  when  the  en- 
trance wing  or  pavillion  of  a  building  is  capped 
by  a  gable  or  pediment,  while  the  rest  of  the 
building's  roof  is  hipped.* 

Last  of  all  in  our  list  of  roof  forms  comes 
the  curved  vault,  and  especially  the  dome.  The 
dome  is,  perhaps,  the  most  monumentally  beau- 
tiful element  in  all  architecture,  for  its  height, 
its  appearance  of  breadth,  its  solidity  give  it 
a  unique  position.  It  combines  the  soaring 
lightness  of  the  spire  with  the  solid  strength  and 
breadth  of  a  Greek  temple.  Yet,  like  all  pre- 
cious things,  it  must  not  be  misused.  Its  form 
suggests  size,  suggests  tremendous  spaces  cov- 
ered, tremendous  power  and  dignity.  A  small 
dome  on  a  large  building,  unless  a  mere  unac- 
cented and  minor  feature,  like  the  dome  on  the 

*  For  a  French  Renaissance  hipped  roof,  see  the  Plate 
Opposite  page  284. 


88    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

observatory  tower  of  the  Paris  Sorbonne,  is  al- 
most a  contradiction  in  terms.  A  glance  at  the 
National  Gallery  in  London  will  show  the  mean- 
ness of  such  a  dome.  Not  that  a  small  dome 
can  never  be  good ;  there  are  many  lovely  domed 
tombs,  but  in  every  case  where  such  a  building 
is  beautiful,  the  design  is  such  that  the  dome  is 
all  inclusive,  such  that  there  is  no  roof  but 
dome,  so  that  relatively  it  seems  very  large.  In 
large  buildings  the  dome  must  be  large ;  it  must 
dominate  or  fail.  This  is  seen  in  some  of  our 
early  state  capitols.  The  architects  had  grasped 
the  beauty  of  the  form  itself,  but  they  had  not 
grasped  the  fact  of  its  necessary  domination; 
they  made  it  too  small.  The  dome  should  al- 
ways dominate,  for  it  is  such  a  strong  motive  in 
design  that  it  must  be  made  the  crown  and  head 
of  all.  A  dome  playing  second  fiddle  is  irra- 
tional, inconceivable,  confusing,  bad. 

The  charm  of  a  dome  seems  to  lie  in  its  con- 
tinuous and  ever-changing  curvature,  and  yet 
the  fact  that  it  is  the  same  seen  from  all  sides. 
It  is  at  once  the  most  varied  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  unified  form  at  the  architect's 
command,  and  as  such  its  fascination  has  laid 
hold  of  us  all.  It  has  built  itself  into  our  litera- 
ture, even  into  our  fairy  lore, 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  89 

"In  Xanadu  did  Kubla  Khan 
A  stately  pleasure-dome  decree," 

wrote  Coleridge,  and  when  an  artist  paints 
heaven,  or  some  fairy  city  of  his  dreams,  he 
paints  it  many  domed.  The  Taj  Mahal  in  Agra, 
that  incomparable  mausoleum,  Santa  Sophia 
crowning  the  rising  profile  of  Constantinople,* 
Saint  Peter's  seen  from  over  the  Campagna, 
like  an  iridescent  dream,  Saint  Paul's  rising 
grey  and  powerful  out  of  the  London  smoke,  the 
Columbia  University  Library  crowning  its  many 
columned  entrance  so  graciously  and  power- 
fully, all  these  bear  witness  to  the  superlative 
influence  the  dome  has  had  over  the  imagination 
of  the  world. 

It  is  powerful  over  our  imaginations  still.  It 
is  not  without  reason  that  our  national  Capitol 
is  crowned  with  a  mighty  dome,  and  that  our 
states  are  following  its  example.  More  and 
more  we  shall  see  domes  built  over  our  churches 
and  halls.  Modern  tile  construction  has  made 
the  dome  reasonable  in  cost  and  easy  to  build, 
and  as  our  national  mind  gets  more  and  more 
sensitive  to  aesthetic  values,  more  and  more  ap- 
preciative of  the  true  worth  of  strong  grace  and 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  90. 


90    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

decorative  simplicity,  more  and  more  anxious 
to  see  its  dreams  realized,  it  will  more  and  more 
demand  domed  buildings;  and  if  the  national 
mind  demands  domes,  one  may  rest  assured  that 
domes  will  come  to  be  increasingly  built.  The 
idea  of  the  dome  is  too  deeply  implanted  in  the 
human  imagination  to  be  long  denied  its  right- 
ful expression;  there  is  in  the  dome  too  much 
of  the  simple  beauty  of  over-arching  blue  sky, 
and  too  much  of  the  majestic  strength  of 
rounded  hills,  for  it  ever  to  be  forgotten. 

Such  are  the  main  types  of  roof  at  the  archi- 
tect's command,  and  such  is  their  fascination. 
And  yet  you  may  walk  our  city  streets  for 
miles,  and  see  no  roof  at  all.  Our  skill  in  mak- 
ing our  buildings  watertight  has  destroyed  the 
necessity  for  the  sloping  roof  to  shed  rain  and 
snow,  and  our  close  economy,  our  demand  for 
space,  and  our  hatred  of  spending  a  cent  more 
than  is  absolutely  necessary  have  forced  our 
buildings  into  cubes — cubes  topped  with  spider- 
legged  water  tanks,  and  shoddy  sheds,  a  chaos 
of  ugliness.  Let  us  outgrow  this  ugliness.  Let 
us  build  as  many  sloping  roofs  as  we  can.  Let 
us  educate  ourselves  and  our  neighbours  until 
we  realize  the  shame  of  our  present  roofs  and 


m  ^ 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  91 

their  excrescences,  and  demand  that  this  condi- 
tion be  ended,  for  when  we  demand  beauty  we 
shall  get  it.  There  is  an  immense  feeling  of 
relief  produced  when,  in  any  of  our  cities,  one 
comes  to  a  building,  be  it  church  or  house  or 
office  building,  with  a  real  roof  appearing  and 
the  spidery  tanks  concealed.  All  praise  to  our 
newer  skyscraper  architects  who  have  given 
New  York  the  Woolworth  Building,  and  the 
Metropolitan  Tower,  roofed  in  the  sight  of  men 
as  well  as  of  birds.  Their  good  influence  will 
grow,  and  in  the  future  we  shall  have  cities 
many  domed  and  many  roofed ;  where  flat  roofs 
are  necessary,  they  will  be  treated  with  lovely 
parapet  and  airy  pergola ;  they  will  be  busy  all 
day  with  playing  children  or  resting  mothers. 
The  city  of  the  future  will  be  a  city  with  its 
roofs  redeemed,  made  into  objects  of  pleasure 
to  the  eye,  and  of  use  to  the  community ;  a  city 
whose  roofs  will  be  its  crown,  and  not  its  dis- 
grace. 

But  a  building,  we  have  seen,  must  have  more 
than  walls  and  roof;  it  must  have  means  for 
entrance  and  exit,  and  means  for  admitting  light 
and  air;  it  must  have  doors,  and,  in  most  cases, 
windows.    The  door  is  a  development  from  the 


92    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

simple  hole  for  entrance  of  a  cave  or  a  hut.  As 
men  began  to  build  more  skilfully,  they  came 
naturally  to  build  these  holes  square,  by  putting 
two  upright  members  at  the  sides,  and  one  on 
top  horizontally.  Eventually,  they  began  to 
decorate  these  three  members,  and  the  orna- 
mented doorway  was  the  result.  Later,  as  they 
grew  still  more  imaginative  and  daring,  they 
began  to  widen  the  size  of  the  opening,  until  a 
point  was  reached  at  which  they  could  no  longer 
procure  a  stone  or  wooden  beam  strong  enough 
to  span  the  door  and  support  the  wall  above. 
At  this  point,  then,  they  stayed  until  some  gen- 
ius had  the  brilliant  idea  of  placing  two  stones 
over  the  opening,  inclined  towards  each  other, 
resting  on  the  sides  of  the  door,  and  leaning  on 
each  other  above  in  the  middle,  thus  forming 
a  triangular  opening.  Then  they  probably  used 
three  instead  of  two  stones,  and  then  more,  until 
they  had  developed  the  arch.  This  we  can  only 
conjecture,  as  the  history  of  the  arch  is  lost  in 
obscurity.  The  famous  Lion  Gate  in  the  city 
walls  of  Mycenae  is  such  a  primitive  triangular 
arch ;  but  either  from  love  of  decoration,  or  be- 
cause of  the  tradition  of  square-headed  doors, 
the  builders  put  an  ordinary  beam  or  lintel  of 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  93 

stone  under  the  arch,  and  rested  on  that  a  trian- 
gular stone  carved  with  two  lions,  that  fills  en- 
tirely the  opening  above.  The  more  developed 
types  of  arch,  semicircular,  segmental  or 
pointed,  have  been  favourite  doorway  forms 
ever  since. 

The  doorway,  or  gateway,  round  or  square, 
became  early  one  of  the  chief  places  for  deco- 
ration. Particularly  was  this  the  case  in  great 
buildings  like  temples  or  palaces.  There  may 
have  been  a  desire  in  the  builders  to  awe  one 
approaching,  to  give  notice  to  him  of  the  divine 
or  human  majesty  into  whose  presence  he  was 
entering,  so  that  the  doorway  was  made  the 
most  tremendous  and  beautiful  portion  of  the 
whole  exterior.  So  the  mediaeval  artists  carved 
their  church  doorways  with  saints  and  virgins, 
virtues  and  vices,  or  set  the  last  judgment 
streaming  across  above,  surrounding  the  en- 
trance with  all  the  pageantry  of  beauty  and  fear 
of  their  wild  and  tender  Christian  mythology. 

There  is  another  reason,  too,  why  the  door 
should  be  decorated.  The  doorway  is  the  en- 
trance, and  the  effect  of  a  building  should  be 
such  that  one  approaching  would  go  instinc- 
tively to  the  door,  rather  than  to  a  window  or 


94    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

around  the  corner.  For  this  reason  the  door 
is  made,  often  unconsciously,  the  artistic  mag- 
net of  the  outside  of  a  building,  so  that  one  is 
not  confused  by  varied  interests,  but  attracted 
inevitably,  though  unconsciously,  to  the  door, 
the  most  beautiful  feature  of  the  whole.  Our 
apartment  house  architects  have  grasped  this 
bit  of  psychology  only  too  well,  but,  alas,  their 
idea  of  magnetic  attractiveness  is  too  often  os- 
tentation, their  idea  of  beauty  too  often  mere 
florid  and  ill-considered  ornament ;  and  a  badly 
designed,  over  conspicuous  door  is  like  the 
clothing  clerk  in  a  slum  store  who  seizes  you 
by  the  arm  as  you  pass,  shouting,  beseeching, 
almost  threatening  you  to  enter  and  buy.  With 
what  relief  after  such  an  experience  you  go  to 
a  high-class  and  well-served  shop,  or  listen  to 
low  and  modulated  voices!  It  is  with  such  a 
feeling  of  relief  that  one  turns  from  the  hideous 
monstrosities  of  many  of  our  apartment  house 
entrances  to  a  truly  noble  doorway  like  the  great 
doorway  of  the  Pantheon. 

The  decoration  of  all  doors  is  of  two  types. 
It  can  be  either  a  frame  around  the  opening,  as 
in  the  Pantheon  doorway,  with  or  without  a 
cornice  above,  or  it  can  emphasize  the  support- 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  95 

ing  character  of  the  sides  in  some  more  definite 
way.    The  first  scheme  is  the  quieter  of  the  two, 
and  it  can  be  just  as  monumental  in  effect ;  it  is 
certainly  the  commoner.    It  can  be  seen  in  the 
wooden  trim  of  almost  any  modern  door.    The 
difference  between  good  and  bad  in  these  decor- 
ative door  frames  is  impossible  to  define ;  it  lies 
in  a  general  way  rather  in  a  question  of  propor- 
tion than  in  any  rules  of  what  decoration  may 
or  may  not  be  used.    The  frame,  or  architrave, 
as  it  is  called  in  the  classic  styles,  must  not  be 
.so  wide  as  to  seem  to  overload  the  door,  and 
press  it  in,  for  a  door,  above  all  else,  must  never 
appear  constrained.    Nor  must  the  frame  seem 
attenuated  and  wire  drawn.    Hardly  more  than 
that  can  be  said ;  it  is  for  the  reader  to  investi- 
gate door  frames  for  himself,  noticing  always 
the  proportions  between  frame  and  opening, 
and  in  the  frame  itself  looking  for  a  certain 
element  of  strength  and  quiet  dignity,   and, 
besides,  a  subtle  play  of  light  and  shade  over 
the  mouldings  and  faces,  usually  more  complex 
on  the  outer  side  of  the  frame,  that  modulate 
between  the  dark  of  the  opening  and  the  quiet- 
ness of  the  wall. 
In  the  second  form  of  door  decoration,  the 


96    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

decoration  does  form  a  frame  around  the  door, 
but  this  frame  is  not  continuous,  the  uprights 
and  the  lintel,  or  arch,  above  them  being  treated 
in  differing  manners.  For  instance,  the  up- 
rights may  be  decorated  with  pilasters  or  col- 
umns and  the  lintel  above  treated  like  a  little 
entablature.  In  Gothic  church  work  the  prin- 
cipal doors  are  usually  treated  with  columns, 
and  the  arch  above  them  carved  into  bold  mould- 
ings ;  this  is  but  a  variation  of  the  same  scheme. 
It  was  very  popular  in  the  early  Eenaissance 
in  Italy,  and  to  a  certain  extent  here  in  the 
United  States  in  Colonial  times  for  front  doors, 
in  a  charmingly  gracious  way  which  is  worthy 
of  our  emulation. 

Very  often  these  two  schemes  of  decoration 
were  combined.  That  is,  some  treatment  of 
columns  and  pilasters,  with  arch  or  entablature 
above,  is  placed  around  a  very  well  marked  and 
continuous  frame  that  encloses  the  opening ;  and 
the  projection  of  this  from  the  wall  may  be  in- 
creased until  there  is  produced  a  genuine  lit- 
tle porch,  and  this  may  be  crowned  with  a  gable 
or  a  pediment. 

Even  the  richness  from  this  double  decora- 
tion, however,  did  not  satisfy  certain  splendour- 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  97 

loving  peoples,  for  whom  the  door  was  the  all- 
important  feature  of  the  exterior  of  a  building. 
Consequently,  they  made  the  door  itself  a  mere 
centre  for  an  immensely  rich  piece  of  decora- 
tion that  often  ran  several  feet  on  each  side  of 
it  and  the  entire  height  of  the  building.  Moham- 
medan nations  seem  to  have  done  this  first;  it 
is  almost  universal  with  them.  In  certain  of  the 
Persian  mosques,  for  instance,  the  door  itself 
is  set  into  an  arched  niche  often  forty  or  fifty 
feet  high,  and  the  whole  is  encrusted  with  won- 
derful coloured  tiles.  So,  in  Constantinople, 
many  of  the  mosque  courtyards  are  entered  by 
gateways  set  into  decorated  niches  running  up 
the  entire  wall,  and  often  there  is  still  further 
importance  given  to  the  composition  by  crown- 
ing the  whole  with  a  dome.  The  grandeur  pos- 
sessed by  such  an  entrance  set  in  a  long  stretch 
of  simple  wall  is  very  great,  and  the  beauty  of 
this  accent  and  this  contrast  is  exceedingly  ef- 
fective. Among  all  the  Moorish  influences  upon 
Spanish  architecture  this  method  of  door  treat- 
ment is  preeminent.  The  Spaniards  seem  to 
have  felt  at  once  the  impressive  charm  of  the 
great  Moorish  doors,  and  set  out  to  adapt  it  to 
their  own  uses  and  their  own  forms.    In  this 


98    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

they  succeeded  to  a  remarkable  degree ;  and  per- 
haps the  most  beautiful  things  in  all  Spanish 
buildings  are  the  doorways  and  gates,  masses  of 
delicately  frosted  ornament  framing  the  dark 
door,  mounting  tier  on  tier  to  the  cornice  itself, 
set  in  a  severe  and  unornamented  cut  stone 
wall.*  Even  in  the  worst  days  of  the  Spanish 
baroque,  when  contortion  of  every  form  and 
complexity  of  every  surface  were  the  vogue,  the 
gateways  still  retained  a  compelling  power  and 
loveliness.  The  main  building  of  the  San  Diego 
Exposition  of  1915  bore  convincing  evidence  to 
the  beauty  of  this  doorway  treatment.  Its  ex- 
uberant ornament,  so  wild  and  florid  and  yet  so 
carefully  studied,  piled  high  around  the  door 
against  an  absolutely  plain  wall,  makes  this 
building  perhaps  the  most  valuable  architec- 
tural gem  of  both  California  Expositions. 

Growing,  as  they  do,  out  of  similar  original 
and  primitive  holes,  it  is  not  strange  to  find  the 
decorative  treatment  of  windows  closely  analo- 
gous to  that  of  doors.  But  given  the  same  two 
schemes,  frame  and  post  and  lintel,  it  is  re- 
markable how  the  treatment  of  doors  and  win- 
dows grew  apart,  for  while  the  purpose  of  a 
door  is  to  admit  people,  the  purpose  of  a  win- 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  208. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS  99 

dow  is  to  admit  light,  and  the  shapes  suitable 
to  one  are  not  necessarily  suitable  to  the  other. 

In  Rome  and  Greece,  where  so  much  outdoor 
life  was  possible,  windows  were  small  and  in- 
conspicuous, and  it  was  not  till  the  application 
of  glass  to  window  design  that  they  became  im- 
portant. Pliny  tells  us  that  in  Rome,  in  his 
time,  at  least,  glass  had  come  to  be  used  for  win- 
dows, and  that  in  villas  they  had  sometimes  an 
important  function  to  perform.  The  true  de- 
velopment of  window  design,  however,  did  not 
come  until  the  Middle  Ages,  and  is  completely 
bound  up  with  the  development  of  the  Church. 
Windows  in  a  classic  temple  were  not  neces- 
sary, for  the  great  sacrifices  and  public  cere- 
monials were  always  out  of  doors.  But  Chris- 
tianity demanded  places  of  worship  capable  of 
receiving  crowds  of  people,  and  a  prime  require- 
ment of  this  new  form  of  worship  was  light.  So 
windows  were  increased  continually  in  size  and 
number,  till  some  of  the  later  Gothic  churches 
are  scarcely  more  than  walls  of  glass.* 

At  first  these  windows  may  have  been  mere 
openings,  unglazed.  Later,  as  glass  came  to  be 
more  common,  the  windows  were  filled  with 
glass,  probably  in  very  small  pieces,  joined  in 

*  See  Fig.  7,  page  100. 


100    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

a  pattern  by  little  ' '  H ' 9  shaped  lead  bars.  Such 
a  window  is  never  strong ;  it  can  be  made  only 
in  narrow  widths,  even  when  reinforced  with 
iron  bars.  The  whole  development  of  Gothic 
architecture    from    the    dark,    heavy-walled 


t  ^tawa  f$g££&eu  3K«S%^ 


Cathedral  of  Saint  Nazaire,  Carcassonne,  Prance. 

Fig.  7.  Gothic  window  development  at  its  climax. 
"Wall  surfaces  are  reduced  to  a  minimum,  with  enor- 
mous arched  windows  occupying  their  place. 


THE  AKCHTTECT'S  MATERIALS  101 

Eomanesque  churches  of  southern  France  to  the 
brilliance  and  airy  lightness  of  King's  College 
Chapel  in  Cambridge,  England,  or  the  cathedral 
of  Carcassonne  in  France,  was  one  long  strug- 
gle to  get  much  window  area,  much  outside  light, 
into  a  stone-vaulted  church.* 

One  of  the  early  innovations  in  this  struggle 
was  the  grouping  of  two  or  three  long,  narrow 
windows  under  one  great  arch.  Later,  a  cir- 
cular window  was  placed  above  these  smaller 
windows  to  fill  up  the  space — or  lunette — under 
the  arch.f  This  was  the  origin  of  tracery ;  with 
this  beginning  it  was  but  a  step  to  the  entire  re- 
duction of  the  wall  between  the  grouped  win- 
dows and  the  rose  above  them  to  a  mere 
framework,  and  then  the  elaboration  of  this 
framework  into  the  glory  of  the  best  Gothic 
tracery,  as  seen  in  the  transepts  of  Notre  Dame 
in  Paris,  or  the  west  front  of  York  Minster  in 
England.  In  Germany,  tracery  was  developed 
to  an  even  greater  extent,  but  without  such  con- 
sistent success ;  for  the  German  longing  for  the 
bizarre  and  the  grotesque  came  finally  to  over- 
balance good  taste;  tracery  was  forced  into 
weird  and  fanciful  naturalistic  forms,  such  as 

*  See  Fig.  7,  page  100. 

f  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  102. 


102    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

branching  trees  or  the  national  eagle;  and  the 
novelty  of  these  can  in  no  way  compensate  for 
the  loss  of  the  dignity,  the  strength,  and  the 
simplicity  innate  in  the  more  structural  tracery 
of  the  French  and  English. 

Of  course,  the  churches,  the  monuments  of  the 
community,  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  glass  to  a 


•  amzmnnq 


Harvard  House,  Stratford-on-Avon,  England. 

Fig.  8.     Small-paned,  leaded  windows  add  greatly 
to  the  charm  of  quaint  half -timbering. 


CARLISLE    CATHEDRAL,    ENGLAND 
(TWO  BAYS  OF  THE  choir) 

An  interesting  example  of  early  "plate"  tracery  (two  small  windows  under 
one  large  arch),  and  the  elaborately  developed  "perpendicular"  tracery  side  by  side. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        103 

large  extent  before  its  use  came  to  be  common 
in  the  house.  Even  in  many  comparatively  re- 
cent English  cottages  in  out-of-the-way  villages 
one  may  see  windows  few  in  number  and  tiny  in 
size,  made  so  because  glass  was  prohibitive  in 
cost.  But  in  towns  and  in  the  great  houses  glass 
was  used  more  and  more  extensively,  until 
Francis  Bacon,  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
complained  that  some  of  the  houses  of  his  day 
were  built  of  glass  rather  than  of  brick  or  stone, 
so  that  in  them  was  neither  shade  in  summer 
nor  sufficient  shelter  in  winter. 

The  great  charm  of  most  of  the  early  glass 
lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  always  used  in  small 
panes,  separated  by  lead  or  wooden  bars,  which 
break  up  the  surface,  and  thus  prevent  the  win- 
dows from  looking  like  mere  black  holes  in  the 
wall.*  This  is  an  effect  all  too  frequent  in  our 
modern  architecture.  Our  ability  to  make  large 
sheets  of  clear,  unruffled  glass  has  led  us  in 
some  cases  astray,  for  in  little  houses  we  find 
large,  unbroken  panes  where  the  use  of  the  small 
panes  of  our  ancestors  would  be  immensely 
more  attractive.  Imagine  a  modern  half-tim- 
bered house,  or  a  modern  Colonial  house  with 
sheets  of  plate-glass  in  the  windows.    Then  look 

*  See  Fig.  8,  page  ioz. 


104    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

for  a  real  old  New  England  house,  with  its 
small  oblong  panes,  or  a  house  more  severely 
in  the  old  English  fashion,  with  each  window 
subdivided  into  myriads  of  tiny  pieces  by  sim- 
ple leading,  and  compare  the  results.  There  is 
a  true  texture,  a  feeling  of  continuity  about  the 
small  panes  totally  lacking  in  the  others ;  there 
is,  besides,  a  certain  charm  of  simple  homeliness 
that  is  most  appealing.  Of  course,  there  are  ex- 
ceptions; in  the  presence  of  a  wonderful  view, 
for  instance,  of  sea  or  highland,  or  far  flung  city 
streets,  where  bars  or  divisions  would  break  up 
the  whole,  a  large  sheet  of  plate  glass  may  be 
quite  excusable,  and  seem  the  correct  solution. 
In  such  cases  small  panes  would  be  an  osten- 
tation. 

Our  cities  are  wildernesses  of  many  windows 
that  are  mere  black  holes  in  the  wall  because 
there  is  so  little  subdivision.  In  business  build- 
ings, particularly  store  and  loft  buildings,  our 
builders  seem  to  have  striven,  with  disastrous 
results,  to  see  who  could  use  the  most  plate  glass 
to  the  least  area  of  wall  space.  The  new  Lord 
&  Taylor  store  in  New  York  shows  how  beauti- 
ful a  show  window  can  be  made  with  a  decent 
regard  for  the  apparent  strength  of  the  build- 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        105 

ing;  yet  just  a  few  streets  below,  with  this 
lovely  example  so  near,  another  architect  has 
constructed  a  monstrous  building  the  entire 
weight:  of  whose  heavily-ornamented  walls 
seems  supported  on  one  unbroken  stretch  of 
plate  glass.  Would  we  had  another  Bacon  to 
complain  as  eloquently  about  this  unnecessary 
and  ugly  ostentation,  for  his  strictures  are  even 
truer  of  buildings  like  this  than  of  the  many- 
windowed  manors  of  which  he  was  writing. 

There  still  remains  to  be  considered  the  last 
of  these  exterior  structural  necessities,  in  some 
respects  the  most  fascinating  of  all,  the  chim- 
ney. Primitive  man  had  to  have  a  fire.  At  first 
it  was  probably  outdoors;  but  further  to  the 
north  where  it  was  needed  as  well  for  heat  as 
for  cooking,  men  came  to  build  fires  inside  their 
houses.  Then  came  the  necessity  of  letting  out 
the  smoke ;  and  so  men  came  to  build  chimneys. 
Chimneys  are  of  comparatively  recent  date  in 
the  history  of  mankind ;  primitive  tribes  are  still 
content  with  holes  in  the  roof.  In  the  uplands 
of  lower  Hungary  the  peasants'  houses  are 
chimneyless  to  this  day:  as  one  winds  through 
the  fascinating  valleys  of  that  picturesque  land 
one  can  see  from  the  very  train  windows  village 


106     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

after  village  apparently  on  fire,  for  every  cot- 
tage has  a  wisp  of  blue  smoke  curling  out  from 
the  top  of  each  deep-eaved  gable;  those  open- 
ings are  the  cottage  chimneys.  One  hates  to 
imagine  the  condition  of  the  inmates  of  such  a 
smoke-filled  house.  Such  a  solution  of  the  in- 
door fire  could  never  satisfy  a  more  sensitive  or 
more  inventive  race  of  mankind.  The  smoke 
rose;  so  over  the  hearth  men  came  to  build  a 
vertical  chimney.  It  is  not  known  when  chim- 
neys were  first  used;  but  in  the  Middle  Ages 
they  became  common,  and  their  artistic  possi- 
bilities came  to  be  recognized. 

It  is  in  the  northern  countries  of  Europe,  as 
one  might  imagine,  that  chimneys  came  to  be 
most  highly  developed.  To  this  day  Italian 
chimneys  are  tiny,  unimportant  affairs,  made 
as  low  and  unobtrusive  as  possible.  The  French- 
man or  Englishman,  on  the  other  hand,  de- 
manded more  fires  than  his  southern  neigh- 
bours, and  it  was  but  natural  to  group  all  the 
flues  from  rooms  above  one  another  into  one 
large  chimney.  The  result  was  a  mass  entirely 
too  large  to  be  neglected ;  and  the  artistic  gen- 
ius of  the  people  welcomed  the  opportunity  that 
was  thus  furnished.    Indeed,  it  seems  to  have 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        107 

been  a  particularly  attractive  problem,  for  chim- 
neys exist  in  numberless  forms ;  often  in  build- 
ings otherwise  severe  and  simple,  there  will  be 
a  little  touch  of  fantastic  playfulness  in  the 
chimneys  that  cheers  and  wonderfully  warms 
the  whole  effect. 

There  are  no  rules  for  good  and  bad  design 
in  chimneys,  save,  of  course,,  the  one  rule  that 
a  chimney  should  look  like  a  chimney.  There 
are  certain  Elizabethan  houses,  built  when  the 
classic  orders  were  just  coming  into  fashion, 
in  which  the  chimneys  are  little  Doric  orders, 
each  flue  built  as  a  separate  column,  and  the 
flues  of  each  chimney  grouped  under  a  little  en- 
tablature for  a  cap.  The  result  is  amusing,  but 
certainly  not  beautiful  or  satisfactory ;  the  roof 
of  Burghley  House,  1570-1583,  for  instance, 
looks  like  a  plateau  covered  with  some  great 
columnar  building,  roofless  and  ruined ;  to  dis- 
cover that  this  group  of  columns  is  made 
up  only  of  chimneys  is  a  decided  shock.  Earlier 
and  later  than  this  date  the  English  were  more 
fortunate  in  their  chimney  design;  they  were 
immensely  skilful  in  the  use  of  brick  and  stone, 
twisting  the  chimney  shafts,  making  them  poly- 
gonal, varying  the  design  all  over  the  house,  so 


108    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

that  in  every  shaft  it  was  different;  building 
this  lightness  up  from  a  solid  base,  and  crown- 
ing it  with  a  moulded  cap.  Later,  when  they 
built  their  chimneys  solid,  they  were  equally 
successful,  often  emphasizing  each  flue  with  a 
little  terra  cotta  chimney  pot  above  the  cap,  and 
panelling  delicately  the  sides  of  the  whole.  In 
France  the  art  of  chimney  design  was  equally 
advanced  during  the  Eenaissance;  but  the 
French  chimney  was  always  more  monumental 
and  less  informally  charming  than  the  English ; 
the  French  loved  high  stone  chimneys,  panelled 
in  formal  designs,  and  topped  by  architrave, 
frieze  and  cornice,  so  modified  as  to  appear 
frankly  what  they  are,  chimney  caps.* 

We  city-dwelling  Americans  are  losing  the 
chimney  feeling.  With  gas  ranges  and  steam 
heat,  chimneys  are  almost  a  rarity  in  most  of 
our  cities ;  that  is  one  reason  for  the  dreariness 
of  New  York  or  Chicago  roofs,  when  compared 
with  the  roofs  of  Paris  or  London  or  Strass- 
burg.  There  are  no  crowded,  smoking  chimney 
pots  by  thousands  to  make  one  dream  of  the 
cheerful  fires  below  and  the  thousand  homes. 
Somehow  the  vent  pipes  to  our  drains  do  not  in- 
vite dreams ;  charm  in  them  is  hard  to  find.    No, 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  284. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        109 

to  us  who  dwell  in  cities  the  romance  of  chim- 
neys is  of  another  kind ;  it  is  the  romance  of  in- 
dustry, of  towering,  slender  columns  seen  over 
grey,  busy  harbours,  belching  their  billowing 
smoke  across  an  evening  sky. 

Therefore,  it  is  all  the  more  important  that 
when  we  Americans  build  our  homes  in  the  coun- 
try, summer  houses  or  farmhouses,  we  should 
build  an  adequately  chimneyed  house.  We  must 
remember  the  comfortable  and  dignified  houses 
of  our  elders,  with  their  massive  brick  chimneys 
and  all  the  charm  of  endurance  and  homeliness 
they  bring.  We  must  not  be  satisfied  with  little, 
insufficient  chimneys  scattered  willy  nilly  over 
the  roof ;  we  must  see  to  it  that  the  house  is  so 
planned  that  its  flues  will  group  into  massive 
and  dignified  chimneys  that  compose  well  with 
the  whole  design. 

These  five  classes  practically  complete  the 
structural  elements  with  which  the  architect 
deals  in  the  exterior  of  a  building.  Walls,  roofs, 
doors,  windows,  chimneys ;  it  is  from  these  sim- 
ple elements  that  the  designer,  by  careful  treat- 
ment of  the  forms  themselves  and  by  their 
careful  combination  and  composition,  and  the 
addition  of  a  certain  amount  of  decoration, 


110    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

evolves  a  whole  to  delight  our  eyes  and  to  sat- 
isfy our  minds.  The  simplicity  of  the  list  is  the 
architect's  limitation,  but  it  is  at  the  same  time 
the  reason  for  the  tremendous  beauty  of  archi- 
tecture when  it  is  good.  Architecture,  because 
it  deals  with  such  simple  elements  that  every- 
one can  understand,  should,  of  all  the  arts,  have 
the  most  universal  appeal. 


santa  sophia,  constantinople,  turkey 
(interior) 

The  walls  are  entirely  sheathed  with  sheets  of  veined  marble. 
Byzantine  use  of  intricate  surface  ornament.     See  pages  114,  176. 


Note  the 


CHAPTER  IV 

the  architect's  materials — Continued 

It  has  been  the  custom  of  architectural  histor- 
ians to  lay  entirely  too  much  stress  upon  ex- 
terior architecture.  One  might  almost  suppose 
from  their  writings  that  architecture  was 
mainly  the  construction  of  a  mere  artistic  shell, 
whose  kernel  was  of  no  importance.  Half  of 
those  who  are  not  interested  in  architecture 
base  their  lack  of  interest  upon  the  fact  that  ar- 
chitecture is  something  dealing  with  luxurious 
and  inessential  external  ornament  which  con- 
cerns them  and  their  interests  but  slightly.  In 
reality,  the  whole  evolution  of  architecture 
proves  the  contrary;  almost  every  important 
development  of  architecture  was  produced  not 
by  any  desire  for  mere  external  grandeur,  but 
because  changing  conditions  had  rendered 
necessary  new  internal  requirements.  Egyp- 
tian architecture  is  largely  a  matter  of  interior 
design,  for  the  temple  courts  are  almost  inter- 
iors, the  hypostyle  halls  certainly  so.    The  ex- 

111 


112    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

ternal  grandeur  of  Greek  temples  arose  from  the 
desire  to  give  fitting  expression  to  the  supreme 
glory  that  resided  within.  The  greatest  con- 
tribution of  Eoman  architecture  to  civilization 
— their  great  vaulted  halls,  and  the  systematic, 
elaborated  planning  of  their  colossal  structures 
— is  a  result  of  the  demand  for  impressive  in- 
teriors. The  Byzantine  tradition  of  great 
domes  was  the  result  of  the  attempt  to  produce 
a  tremendous  church,  and  the  whole  develop- 
ment of  Gothic  architecture  was  a  striving  for 
the  perfect  church  interior.  It  is  the  same 
throughout  the  ages;  and  those  who  consider 
architecture  as  a  matter  purely  of  exteriors  are 
considering  only  a  small  portion  of  the  whole 
great  field. 

In  studying  the  structural  materials  at  the 
architect's  command,  then,  it  is  important  to 
consider  the  internal  requirements  of  a  building, 
as  well  as  the  external  requirements.  There  are 
great  similarities  between  the  two,  but  there  are 
great  differences  as  well,  for  the  whole  purpose 
of  the  exterior  of  a  building  is  to  protect  the  in- 
side from  the  weather  and  from  objectionable 
people,  while  the  entire  interior,  being  so  pro- 
tected, must  be  so  treated  as  to  fulfill  most  per- 
fectly its  specific  needs. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        113 

The  similarities  lie,  then,  in  the  main  abso- 
lute necessities  which  confront  the  architect, 
and  the  differences  mostly  in  their  treatment. 
As  before,  the  first  main  requirement  is  wall, 
and  in  general  the  same  apparent  solidity  of 
treatment  is  required  on  the  inside  as  on  the  out- 
side. 

But  a  greater  freedom  is  allowable  in  the 
treatment  of  all  interior  features,  for  several 
reasons.  In  the  first  place,  the  interior  of  a 
building  is  protected  from  all  attacks  of  the 
weather;  and  this  at  once  allows  the  architect 
great  latitude  in  the  material  he  uses,  and  sug- 
gests a  greater  richness  and  delicacy  of  surface. 
In  the  second  place,  when  one  is  inside  a  room, 
the  whole  scheme  of  a  building  is  not  usually 
evident,  as  it  is  to  one  outside,  and  consequently 
there  need  be  no  such  expression  of  structural 
strength  to  satisfy  the  eye.  And  lastly,  inside 
a  building  you  have  usually  a  closer  view  of 
all  the  architecture  of  the  interior  than  one 
outside  is  likely  to  get  of  the  exterior. 

For  these  reasons,  then,  a  great  deal  of  free- 
dom is  allowed  the  architect  in  his  design  of  a 
building's  interior.  Stone  walls  may  be  pan- 
elled deeply,  and  broken  with  many  rich  mould- 
ings.   Sheets  of  white  or  coloured  marble  may 


114    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

be  used  to  produce  tremendously  rich  and  va- 
ried effects,  as  in  Santa  Sophia  in  Constanti- 
nople,* or  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  dei  Mira- 
coli  in  Venice,t  or  the  walls  may  be  mosaiced  in 
rich  and  gorgeous  colours,  or  painted. 

In  smaller,  less  formal  buildings,  a  sheathing 
of  wood  panelling  may  be  used,  or  a  simple  sur- 
face of  plaster,  plain  or  tinted  or  papered.  All 
of  these  varied  treatments  are  good  in  their 
places;  but  in  all  the  feeling  of  wall  should  in 
general  be  preserved  and  the  best  mosaic  and 
the  best  wall  painting  is  usually  that  in  which 
there  is  some  touch  of  conventionalization,  some 
flat  unrealism  of  colour  or  drawing  that  gives  a 
feeling  of  continuous  solidity  and  strength  to 
the  whole  decoration.  There  are  exceptions: 
there  are  informal  places  where  a  realistic  deco- 
oration  that  frankly  makes  a  "hole  in  the  wall" 
is  very  beautiful ;  it  may  serve  to  lighten  a  dark 
room,  or  enlarge  a  small  room,  but  as  a  general 
rule  the  greatest  of  the  decorators  have  always 
considered  and  emphasized  the  fact  of  the  solid- 
ity of  the  wall. 

Of  all  the  less  expensive  and  more  informal 
types  of  wall  treatment,  there  is  none  more 

♦See  the  Plate  opposite  page  no. 
f  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  116. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        115 

adaptable  than  wood  panelling.  The  rich  gor- 
geousness  of  a  Louis  Quinze  boudoir  and  the 
simple  homeliness  of  a  Colonial  kitchen  are  ex- 
amples of  the  extreme  variety  of  effects  that 
can  be  produced  in  it.  One  reason  for  this  lies 
in  the  fact  that  wood  panelling  is  in  itself  a 
structural  form:  a  form  developed  naturally 
from  the  qualities  of  the  wood  itself.  In  addi- 
tion, almost  every  wood  has  such  an  interesting 
texture  of  veining,  such  subtle  variations  of 
surface  and  colour,  that  it  is  in  itself  a  delight 
to  the  eye,  and  a  delight  we  must  cultivate  and 
demand.  Let  us,  by  all  means,  have  more  pan- 
elled rooms,  for  a  well  designed  Georgian  hall, 
with  tall  and  stately  panels,  or  a  small  and  cosy 
library  wainscotted  high  with  small  panels  of 
dark  oak,  might  each  be  more  than  rooms ;  they 
might  be  real  works  of  art,  sincere  and  unos- 
tentatious and  beautiful,  to  be  treasured  by  our 
children  as  we  treasure  the  panelled  rooms  of 
our  ancestors. 

Above  all  else  one  must  be  wary  of  fads  in  the 
treatment  of  wall  surfaces.  Let  curtains  and 
hangings  and  furniture  be  futuristic,  impres- 
sionistic, realistic,  radical,  reactionary,  what 
you  will,  decorated  with  all  the  "isms"  of  art, 


116     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

if  you  wish;  but  when  one  comes  to  the  choice 
of  a  wall  treatment,  he  had  best  cast  aside  all 
thoughts  of  " style,"  or  period,  or  theory,  or 
fad,  and  think  only  of  what  will  be  strongest  in 
appearance,  most  beautiful,  most  suited  to  its 
purpose  and  to  his  pocketbook,  and  above  all, 
of  what  will  possess  the  most  repose. 

If  repose  is  a  sine  qua  non  of  wall  design,  it 
is  even  more  indispensable  in  the  design  of 
floors.  The  floor  in  the  landing  of  the  grand 
staircase  of  the  Ducal  Palace  in  Venice,  for  in- 
stance, is  of  black  and  white  marble  so  designed 
that  it  seems,  despite  its  real  flatness,  to  be  made 
of  cubes  set  cornerwise — a  myriad  of  points 
sticking  into  the  air.  Such  a  floor  is  an  abomi- 
nation; one  is  almost  afraid  to  step  on  it  for 
fear  of  hurting  one's  feet.  Similarly,  any  floor 
in  which  the  appearance  or  sense  of  flatness  is 
lost,  is  a  bad  floor.  This  is  true  whatever  be  the 
material.  Mosaic  designs  realistically  pictur- 
esque are  bad ;  so  also  are  loud-coloured  carpets 
or  those  in  which  the  pattern  is  so  pronounced 
that  it  seems  to  rise  from  the  background.  The 
charm  of  good  Oriental  rugs  lies  in  the  fact  that 
despite  the  richness,  even  the  gorgeousness  of 
the  colours,  sometimes  mingled  bright  **eds  and 


i?  1 

y  2  ti 

— .  r-  +-» 

2  .2 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        117 

yellows  and  even  whites,  they  are  so  interwoven 
and  blended  in  the  intricacies  of  the  convention- 
alized design  that  the  rug  never  seems  to  be  any- 
thing except  one  flat  plane.  So,  coloured  mar- 
ble or  tile  floors  are  only  successful  when  they 
have  this  appearance  of  being  absolutely  flat. 

This,  then,  is  the  one  criterion  of  floor  design. 
Stone  or  brick,  wood  or  marble,  tile  or  carpet — 
this  one  requirement  must  be  fulfilled,  for  it 
was  in  the  desire  to  give  himself  a  flat  and  dry 
surface  to  walk  on  that  primitive  man  first 
smoothed  his  cave's  earthen  floor,  and  later 
covered  it  with  flat  stones,  or  boards  of  wood, 
or  skins  or  cloths;  and  this  flatness  that  man 
has  with  so  great  effort  perfectly  attained,  he 
will  not,  even  in  appearance,  forego. 

But  man  needs  not  only  walls  around  and 
a  floor  below,  he  needs  even  more  than  these,  a 
covering  above ;  so,  corresponding  to  the  roof  on 
the  outside,  there  is  the  ceiling  within,  as  the 
next  structural  requirement  of  a  building.  In 
some  cases,  as  in  certain  churches  and  great 
halls  that  extend  the  full  height  of  a  building, 
the  ceiling  is  merely  the  interior  of  the  roof.  If 
the  roof  is  a  sloping  one  of  timber  all  the  struc- 
tural parts  are  exposed — the  rafters,  the  under 


118    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

sides  of  the  roof  boards,  the  trusses  that  sup- 
port the  whole — and  these  may  be  treated  so 
richly  that  the  effect  becomes  not  one  of  pov- 
erty, but  of  luxury.  There  is  something  tre- 
mendously impressive  in  such  an  "open 
timbered"  roof:  the  combination  of  the  naked 
all  apparent  strength  of  the  supports,  with  the 
richness  of  light  and  shade  of  their  criss-cross- 
ing, complex  yet  systematic,  in  the  shadows 
above,  is  well  nigh  irresistible.  Memories  of 
Westminster  Hall  in  London,  or  the  Hall  of 
Hampton  Court  Palace,  of  English  Tudor 
churches,  of  the  rich  colours  of  the  San  Miniato 
ceiling  in  Florence  throng  to  the  mind  in  con- 
firmation, and  make  one  wonder  why  for  so 
many  years  this  form  has  been  so  rare  among 
us.  Lately  it  has  come  into  renewed  favour; 
and  churches  and  halls  and  libraries  more  and 
more  throughout  the  country  bear  witness  to  its 
puissant  charm.  The  chapel  of  the  Union  Theo- 
logical Seminary  in  New  York  City,  the  great 
dining-hall  of  Yale  University  in  New  Haven, 
the  simple  and  dignified  Protestant  Cathedral 
in  Albany  are  but  a  few  examples ;  the  list  might 
be  extended  tremendously,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
will  grow  each  year. 

♦See  the  Plate  opposite  page  120. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        119 

Somewhat  the  same  charm  of  strength  and 
complexity  exists  in  a  frank  treatment  of  steel- 
framed  roofs,  particularly  when  combined  with 
glass.  The  train  concourse  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Station  in  New  York  is  a  superlatively  lovely 
example  of  the  kind  of  thing  which  should  be 
common.  The  truth  is,  we  are  not  used  to  steel, 
even  yet.  It  has  been  the  origin  of  so  much 
engineering  ugliness,  that  one  forgets  that  it 
can  be  made  a  means  of  architectural  beauty. 
Our  aesthetic  hatred  of  steel  is  a  heritage  from 
those  pre-raphaelite  days  when  steel  and  iron 
meant  system  and  machinery,  and  machinery 
meant  all  that  was  evil.  This  prejudice,  more- 
over, is  not  lessened  by  those  extreme  radicals 
who  shout  for  steel  everywhere,  those  who,  like 
the  Italian  futurists,  and  still  more  like  the 
proverbial  small  boy  with  his  new  toy,  would 
write  "wanting"  against  every  old  established 
architectural  form  of  the  past,  and  upon  that 
vacuum  evolve  a  colossal  architecture  of  steel 
monstrosities.  No,  this  prejudice  against  steel 
can  only  be  successfully  overcome  by  the  in- 
creased careful  use  of  steel  by  our  architects 
themselves ;  and  the  use  of  it  with  restraint  and 
common  sense.    All  praise,  then,  to  the  design- 


120    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

ers  of  that  lovely  miracle  of  lightness  and  se- 
curity and  grace  in  the  Pennsylvania  Station 
just  mentioned,  in  which  stone  and  steel  and. 
tile  and  skylight  seem  combined  in  almost  per- 
fect proportion.  May  there  be  more  like  them, 
working  on  the  same  problem  and  developing  its 
possibilities  further,  with  equal  success ! 

The  ceilings  we  have  treated  of  so  far  have 
been  merely  the  insides  of  roofs,  but  there  is  an 
immensely  larger  number  of  buildings  whose 
ceilings  are  below  the  roofs,  and  to  a  large  ex- 
tent, separate  from  them.  There  are,  besides, 
the  ceilings  that  are  the  under-sides  of  floors. 
There  is  one  large  class  of  ceilings  in  which  the 
floor  itself  forms  the  ceiling  and  all  the  beams 
and  girders  which  support  the  floor  boards  are 
exposed.  In  rooms  of  a  certain  size  and  height 
there  is  the  same  structural  charm  in  a 
ceiling  of  this  kind  that  there  is  in  an  open- 
timbered  roof.  In  the  Palazzo  Davanzati  in 
Florence  there  are  several  ceilings  where  two 
or  three  great  girders  span  the  room,  with 
smaller  beams  closer  together  running  from  one 
girder  to  the  next ;  and  almost  unif  ormally  such 
ceilings  are  handsome.  They  have  a  sober  dig- 
nity about  them  that  neither  the  vault,  more 


^ 


3  SB 

Pd 
« 
H 
en 

g 

2 

H 
c/) 
H 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        121 

grand  or  more  graceful,  as  the  case  may  be,  nor 
the  flat  plaster  ceiling  can  ever  have.  But  they 
have  their  drawbacks,  too.  In  the  first  place, 
anyone  who  has  lived  in  an  unceiled  country 
cottage  knows  that  such  a  ceiling  is  tremend- 
ously noisy ;  the  drop  of  a  pin  on  the  floor  above 
reechoes  as  if  it  were  a  spike,  the  fall  of  a  shoe  is 
an  explosion.  In  addition,  such  rooms  are  cold, 
and  there  is  no  space  for  running  electric  wires 
or  pipes,  so  that  it  is  small  wonder  that  some 
sort  of  covering  below  the  beams  has  come  to  be 
almost  universal.  In  some  cases  it  is  possible 
to  combine  the  delight  of  one  with  the  comfort 
of  the  other,  by  plastering  directly  under  the 
small  beams  and  letting  the  larger  project 
below,  or,  by  putting  the  plaster  at  a  level  half 
way  between  the  floor  and  the  bottom  of  the 
beams.  Sometimes  the  effect  is  imitated  by 
building  false  beams  below  the  ceiling.  This  is, 
strictly  speaking,  hardly  legitimate ;  it  savours 
too  much  of  the  "fake,"  but  at  times  effects  can 
be  produced  so  delightful,  and  apparently  so  in- 
dispensable to  the  design  of  the  room,  that  it 
is  quite  excusable.  It  is  at  best  a  means  to  an 
end;  at  the  worst,  it  is  an  artistic  insult;  as 
when  the  speculative  builder  puts  tiny  sticks  two 


122    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

inches  square  across  a  ten-foot  apartment  room, 
and  thinks  thereby  to  produce  "atmosphere." 
Better  a  thousand  times  the  inoffensive  simplic- 
ity of  plain  plaster  than  this. 

The  beamed  ceiling  was  developed  in  the 
Renaissance  to  a  splendid  perfection.  The  Ital- 
ians found  in  time  that  the  simple  method  of 
the  Davanzati  ceilings  could  be  varied.  They 
made  all  the  beams  of  the  same  depth,  and 
crossed  them  at  right  angles  to  each  other,  fill- 
ing the  spaces  between  with  square  or  rectangu- 
lar panels,  painted  and  moulded.  Often  the 
under  side — the  soffit — of  the  beam  was  itself 
decorated;  and  sometimes  the  beams  were  so 
arranged  as  to  give  large  panels  in  the  centre, 
decorated  with  huge  " mural' '  paintings,  with  a 
frame  of  simpler,  smaller  pattern  around.  Then 
came  the  use  of  diagonal  beams,  and  curved 
beams,  until  there  was  no  limit  to  the  variety 
of  designs  possible,  with  octagonal  or  square  or 
oblong  or  star-shaped  or  oval  panels.  Such 
ceilings  have  a  richness  that  is  most  effective  in 
large  rooms :  and  as  they  developed  frankly  into 
decorations  at  the  end,  one  feels  no  qualm  at 
seeing  the  beams  used  merely  as  a  decoration, 
and  not  at  all  as  a  support  for  the  next  floor. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        123 

The  colour  of  the  wood,  the  shadowed  panel 
mouldings,  dull  gold,  perhaps,  the  paintings  in 
the  centre ;  here  is  an  alphabet  of  decoration,  in- 
deed. Go  to  the  New  York  Public  Library,  and 
look  at  the  ceiling  of  the  main  exhibition  room ; 
then  go  upstairs  to  the  main  reading  room,  and 
look  up.  There  is  richness,  there  is  strength, 
there  is  delicacy,  there  is  warmth,  there  is  dig- 
nity. No  other  type  of  ceiling  in  the  world  could 
give  just  that  effect  of  studied  charm  and  rich 
simplicity. 

Still  more  interesting  than  these  flat  ceilings 
are  those  curved  ceilings  we  know  as  vaults. 
The  vault  is,  in  its  simplest  form,  merely  a  con- 
tinuous arch.  This  is  the  form  in  which  it  was 
first  used ;  in  the  beginning  for  drains,  and  later, 
in  those  countries  in  which  beams  of  stone  or 
wood  were  hard  to  get,  as  a  covering  for  build- 
ings. The  long,  narrow  halls  of  the  great  As- 
syrian and  Babylonian  palaces  were  undoubt- 
edly ceiled  with  barrel  vaults ;  but  these  vaults 
were  built  of  such  perishable  sun-dried  brick 
that  they  have  all  vanished,  and  only  the  great 
thick  walls  remain.  This  Assyrian  tradition  of 
vault  building  had  an  intermittent  influence  on 
the  builders  of  western  Asia;  but  it  is  entirely 


124    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

to  the  Komans  that  we  moderns  owe  the  origin 
of  all  European  vaulting.  The  Eomans  soon 
appreciated  the  immense  opportunity  offered 
by  the  vault  for  roofing  in  a  majestic  way 
great  unencumbered  halls;  and  with  their  cus- 
tomary ingenuity  and  sound  sense  they  devel- 
oped this  new  method  of  building  to  the  limit. 
Not  satisfied  with  the  plain  barrel  vault,  they 
used  with  greater  and  greater  skill  all  kinds  of 
intersecting  vaults  and  domes,  and  so  started 
that  great  tradition  of  vault  building  which  has 
flowered  so  gloriously  again  and  again  all 
through  Gothic  and  Eenaissance  and  modern 
times. 

Before  going  further  into  the  design  of  vault- 
ing, it  will  be  necessary  to  explain  a  few  points 
about  the  forms  of  the  vault,  and  its  influences 
upon  design  as  a  whole.  In  the  first  place,  any 
and  every  vault,  whatever  its  form,  exerts,  like 
the  arch,  not  only  a  downward  weight  upon  its 
supports,  but  a  sidewise  thrust  as  well.  A  vault 
is  like  a  card  house  built  upon  a  slippery  table ; 
unless  the  cards  are  prevented  from  spreading, 
the  whole  will  fall.  The  typical  arch  consists 
of  many  wedge-shaped  stones  built  together; 
and  the  weight  on  each  of  these  tends  to  drive  it 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        125 

in  and  so  widen  the  arch  opening,  more  and 
more,  until  the  whole  collapses.  The  same  thing 
is  true  of  a  vault.  It  is  always  tending  to 
spread;  and  this  tendency,  this  thrusting  so 
strongly  outwards,  is  called  its  " thrust.' %  In 
a  barrel  vault  this  thrust  is  continuous  along 
the  whole  length  of  the  vault,  and  therefore  the 
walls  along  the  sides  that  hold  it  up  must  be 
extremely  heavy,  to  keep  the  vault  from  spread- 
ing and  collapsing.  Such  heavy  walls  are  ex- 
pensive, however,  and  the  barrel  vault  is  conse- 
quently seldom  used  at  the  present  time,  except 
in  minor  positions  and  over  small  spans. 

The  dome  is  a  continuous  arch  in  another 
sense.  The  barrel  vault  is  formed  when  an  arcli 
is  continuous  over  a  line  at  right  angles  to  its 
own  span.  Imagine  this  same  arch  pivoted 
throught  its  centre  and  highest  point,  and  then 
spun  around;  the  result  would  be  a  dome,  a 
hemisphere  on  a  circular  base.  This  beautiful 
form  has  been  spoken  of  before,  and  we  need 
not  therefore  particularize  any  more  here,  for 
the  same  facts  apply  to  the  interior  that  apply 
to  the  exterior  dome ;  and  the  resultant  artistic 
effects  of  grandeur  and  strength  and  lightness 
are  much  the  same.    But  it  will  be  well  to  keep 


126    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

in  mind  that  there  are  several  classes  of  domes. 
First,  there  is  the  Roman  dome,  as  seen  in  the 
Pantheon  at  Rome.*  This  dome  is  designed  with 
the  interior  effect  supreme  in  the  designer's 
mind ;  the  exterior  of  the  Pantheon  depends  for 
its  effect  not  on  the  dome,  but  upon  the  entrance 
portico,  the  doorway,  and  the  great  unbroken 
stretch  of  circular  wall.  From  nearby  the  dome 
itself  is  completely  invisible ;  and  it  is  only  when 
one  enters  that  superb  building  and  sees  the 
great  dome  rising  from  all  sides  above  him  to 
the  "eye,"  the  open  space  in  the  centre,  that  one 
grasps  the  full  effect  of  that  splendid  concave 
curve  above,  with  its  many  coffers  and  its  per- 
fect relationship  to  the  walls  below. 

The  Byzantine  architects,  the  next  great  dome 
builders,  strove  for  a  dome  equally  impressive 
inside  and  out.  They  accomplished  this  by  rais- 
ing the  dome  high  up  on  a  series  of  smaller  half 
domes  and  subsidiary  vaults,  so  that  from  both 
inside  and  out  there  is  a  wonderful  effect  of 
height  and  spaciousness,  dome  building  into 
dome,  vault  into  vault,  up  to  the  crowning  glory 
of  the  whole,  the  principal  dome.  In  Santa 
Sophia  this  form  of  design  reached  an  early  per- 
fect expression,!  so  that  centuries  after,  when 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page, 
t  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  9  o. 


pantheum,  rome,  italy 

(interior) 

This    matchless    interior    shows    the  compelling  dignity  of  a  simple  dome 
when  rightly  treated. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        127 

Constantinople  was  conquered  by  the  Turks, 
they  used  that  church  as  a  model  for  their 
greater  mosques — and  the  glory  of  their  domes 
is  only  second  to  that  of  Santa  Sophia  itself. 

In  the  Renaissance,  the  architects  strove  after 
still  different  effects.  They  sought  for  a  dome 
lower  proportionately  than  that  of  Santa  So- 
phia, more  like  the  dome  of  the  Pantheon;  yet 
because  of  the  length  of  their  churches  it  was 
necessary  to  have  a  higher  dome  to  give  exter- 
nal effect.  Consequently,  the  dome  of  two  or 
even  three  shells  was  developed,  in  which  the 
interior  dome  was  proportioned  with  sole  ref- 
erence to  interior  effect,  and  the  exterior  one 
with  sole  reference  to  exterior  effect.  Between 
these  two  shells  there  was  sometimes  a  third, 
built  to  carry  the  weight  of  the  "lantern,"  the 
small,  many-windowed  cupola  which  took  the 
place  of  the  "eye"  of  the  Roman  dome.  Such 
domes  are  those  of  Saint  Peter's  in  Eome,  of 
Saint  Paul's  in  London,  of  the  Pantheon  and 
Les  Invalides  in  Paris,  and  of  most  of  the 
American  capitol  buildings. 

There  was  another  objection  to  the  simple 
Roman  dome  besides  its  exterior  littleness;  it 
had  the  same  fault  as  the  barrel  vault ;  it  exerted 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  216. 
t  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  78. 


128     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

a  continuous,  strong  sidewise  thrust,  which  had 
to  be  counteracted  by  a  tremendously  heavy 
wall.  The  Roman  builders  constantly  strove 
for  some  method  of  roofing  a  large  space  that 
avoided  the  necessity  of  this  heavy  wall;  and 
they  soon  arrived  at  the  solution,  the  groined 
vault.  The  groined  vault  consists  of  two  vaults 
intersecting  one  another  at  right  angles.  In 
other  words,  imagine  a  square  room  roofed  with 
a  barrel  vault.  Two  walls  will  have  arched 
tops  and  two  straight  tops.  Now  let  us  take 
another  vault  of  the  same  size,  and  place  it 
across  the  room  at  right  angles  to  the  other. 
Then  let  us  cut  out  all  the  superfluous  matter. 
The  result  will  be  a  groined  vault ;  the  four  walls 
of  the  room  will  all  have  arched  heads  now, 
and  the  whole  weight  of  the  vault  and  all  the 
thrust  will  be  concentrated  at  the  corners,  at 
which  points  it  is  easy  to  build  masses  of  ma- 
sonry to  counteract  the  thrust  without  making 
the  whole  wall  thick.  At  the  same  time  this 
form  of  vault  gives  a  feeling  of  height  and  gran- 
deur, and  a  pleasant  play  of  light  and  shade 
over  its  varied  surfaces,  that  the  simple  barrel 
vault  could  never  have.  Consequently,  the  Ro- 
mans adopted  this  form  of  vault  as  their  favour- 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        129 

ite,  and  their  great  public  baths  became  im- 
pressive and  tremendous  palaces  because  of 
its  use. 


Gothic  Ribbed  Vaulting. 


Fig.  9.  "a"  shows  the  ribs  alone;  "b"  shows  the 
vault  after  the  ribs  have  been  covered  in. 

All  through  the  Middle  Ages  the  groined 
vault  was  the  greatest  form  in  architecture; 
and  the  development  of  Gothic  architecture  is 
primarily  dependent  on  its  requirements.  But 
the  Gothic  architects  had  difficulty  in  raising 
great  vaults  like  the  Roman  ones;  they  sought 
for  some  means  of  lessening  the  surface  that 
had  to  be  built  at  one  time.  Consequently,  they 
adopted  the  ribbed  vault.  In  the  true  ribbed 
vault  all  the  ribs  were  built  first ;  each,  being  an 
arch,  was  self-supporting.*    Then  they  filled  in 

*  See  Fig.  9,  a.  on  this  page. 


130     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AECHITECTURE 

the  framework  with  very  light  masonry,  each 
space  left  between  the  ribs  being  built  sepa- 
rately.* Later,  particularly  in  England,  the  ar- 
chitects grew  so  fond  of  the  decorative  effect 
of  these  ribs  that  they  multiplied  their  number 
enormously,  first  in  a  simple  way,  as  in  Lincoln 
Cathedral  choir,t  and  then,  as  they  grew  more 
skilful,  into  a  complex  network — called  lierne 
vaulting,  as  in  Gloucester  Cathedral.  But  in 
this  development  the  richness  of  the  result  came 
to  be  an  end  in  itself,  and  the  structural  char- 


The  Pendentive. 

Fig.  10.    "a,  a,"  are  the  pendentives,  "b"  is  the 

dome  built  upon  them. 
*  See  Fig.  9,  b,  page  129. 
tSee  the  Plate  opposite  page  150. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        131 

acter  of  the  ribs  was  lost,  until  at  last,  in  the 
glorious  mazes  of  fan  vaulting,  so  exquisitely- 
seen  in  the  JHenry  the  Seventh  Chapel  in  West- 
minster, or  in  King's  College  Chapel  in  Cam- 
bridge, the  mazy  ribs  are  merely  decorations 
carved  on  the  stones  of  a  vault  as  uniform  and 
non-Gothic  as  the  old  Roman  vaults  themselves. 
It  is  due  to  this  non-structural  nature,  as  well 
as  to  the  lavish  cost  of  these  fan  vaults,  that 
they  are  little  copied  in  our  day.  We  try,  and 
rightly,  for  richness  in  more  structural  ways. 

The  Renaissance  vault  builders  went  back  to 
Roman  examples  for  their  inspiration,  but  the 
ribbed  vaults  of  the  Gothic  builders  had  left, 
particularly  in  France,  an  impress  too  strong 
to  be  forgotten.  As  a  result  the  vaults  of  the 
Renaissance  are  much  more  free  and  varied 
than  those  of  Roman  days ;  the  builders  learned 
alike  from  Roman  and  Byzantine  and  Gothic 
sources,  and  applied  their  knowledge  with  con- 
tinually growing  skill.  From  the  Romans  they 
took  the  groin,  from  the  Byzantines  the  penden- 
tive* — that  simple  method  of  supporting  a  dome 
over  a  square — from  the  Gothic  builders  the 
rib;  and  the  result  is  seen  in  the  charm  of  the 
loggia  of  the  Farnesina  Villa  or  the  Villa 

*  See  Fig.  10,  page  130. 


132    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

Madama  in  Home,  in  the  entrance  hall  of  the 
Boston  Public  Library,  in  the  glory  of  Saint 
Peter's  and  the  richness  of  Saint  Paul's  in 
London.* 

Our  own  age  is  witnessing  a  new  renaissance 
of  the  vault.  For  a  time,  the  ease  with  which 
large  spaces  could  be  roofed  by  the  use  of  steel 
caused  the  almost  entire  abandonment  of  the 
vault ;  but  our  growing  skill  in  building  is  resur- 
recting it.  Certain  builders  and  engineers  dis- 
covered that  a  strong,  light  and  beautiful  vault 
could  be  built  cheaply  of  tile,  and  more  and  more 
these  tile  vaults  are  coming  into  use.  With  this 
tile  it  is  simpler  to  build  domical  vaults  than 
vaults  of  any  other  sort,  so  the  dome  is  coming 
into  its  own ;  and  there  is  a  certain  new  sort  of 
Byzantine  character  produced  by  its  use.  These 
tile  vaults  and  their  proper  treatment  are  a  new 
thing ;  they  are  a  truly  original  contribution  of 
modern  America  to  the  stream  of  architectural 
development;  therefore  let  us  appreciate  duly 
their  beauty  and  sincerity.  The  growing  use  of 
the  tile  vault  is  one  of  the  most  hopeful  aesthetic 
signs  of  our  times ;  and  we  may  look  confidently 
forward  to  the  time  when  they  shall  beautify 

*  For  another  fine  Italian  Renaissance  example,  see  the 
Plate  opposite  page  134. 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        133 

not  only  our  churches  and  monuments,  but  our 
homes  as  well. 

Of  the  interior  treatment  of  doors  and  win- 
dows, little  need  here  be  said,  for  all  that  is 
true  of  their  exterior  treatment  holds  true  of 
their  treatment  within,  save  that,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  wall,  a  greater  freedom  is  allowable. 
There  remains,  then,  but  one  more  structural 
requirement  to  consider,  the  pier  and  the  col- 
umn, and  of  the  column  most  of  what  is  to  be 
said  belongs  in  the  next  chapter,  for  at  the  pres- 
ent time  the  use  of  the  column  is  almost  entirely 
decorative.  As  for  the  pier,  it  is  in  essence 
merely  a  post,  placed  as  an  intermediate  sup- 
port where  the  width  of  a  room  is  too  great  to 
be  spanned  by  one  beam  or  one  vault,  or  placed 
to  subdivide  a  large  room  into  separate  units 
that  shall  still  be  part  of  the  whole.  As  time 
went  on  men  came  to  cut  the  corners  off,  to  allow 
more  ease  of  communication  around  the  post; 
later  still  they  rounded  the  whole  into  a  col- 
umn. In  the  great  temple  halls  of  Egypt  these 
columns  were  used  by  the  hundred,  giving  an  im- 
pression of  tremendous  mystery  and  size.  In 
the  more  northern  countries,  where  wood  was 
more  abundant,  the  column  was  probably  de- 


134    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

veloped  from  the  use  of  a  tree  trunk  as  a  sup- 
port. The  round  column  has  a  grace  that  the 
square  pier  lacks;  on  the  other  hand,  the  pier 
has  a  strength  and  simplicity  beyond  that  of  the 
column.  Each  is  good  in  its  place,  and  some  of 
the  most  impressive  buildings  in  the  world  owe 
a  great  deal  of  their  success  to  the  careful  use 
of  both  pier  and  column,  each  contributing  its 
particular  note  to  the  beauty  of  the  whole.  For 
an  example,  see  the  lovely  cloisters  of  Santa 
Maria  della  Pace  in  Rome.*  Note  how  the  con- 
trast of  pier  and  column  is  used  on  the  second 
story  to  suggest  the  pier  and  arch  below;  and 
see,  too,  how  exquisite  is  the  balance  and  the 
rhythm  of  the  whole. 

The  pier  is  such  a  simple  element  that  little 
was  done  to  elaborate  its  form  greatly,  save  in 
details  as  by  giving  it  a  cap  and  base- — except 
by  Gothic  architects.  The  Gothic  architects 
were  avid  of  structural  expression;  and  once 
given  their  ribbed  vaults,  it  was  but  natural 
for  them  to  wish  to  see  the  feeling  of  the  ribs 
carried  down  to  the  floor.  This  they  did  by 
making  the  pier  very  complex  in  plan,  with  a 
strongly  marked  projection  under  each  rib.  The 
accumulated  richness  of  the  vertical  shadows 

♦See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


si 


"SE 


CD  j« 

c.2 


o    - 
>  w 


§  . 

o 

j  S  >: 

<  u  5 

W   W   H 
5      >   ~ 

§3 


5  o 


1 

03    TO 
O    ^ 

■J 


1* 


"5.  en 


THE  ARCHITECT'S  MATERIALS        135 

on  such  a  moulded  pier  led  them  eventually  to 
treat  this  complex  pier  for  its  own  sake,  and  to 
mould  it  richly  without  regard  to  the  ribs  above 
it.  Their  successors,  the  people  of  the  Renais- 
sance, went  back  to  the  simple  pier,  breaking 
it  only  slightly,  with  pilasters — as  in  the  Santa 
Maria  della  Pace  cloisters — or  even  treating  it 
as  a  simple  rectangular  piece  of  masonry,  un- 
broken. 

These,  then,  are  the  structural  requirements 
that  an  architect  must  treat  in  his  design ;  these 
are  the  usual  units  of  every  building  that  he 
must  make  beautiful :  wall,  roof,  door,  window, 
chimney,  ceiling,  vault,  supports;  these  are  the 
things  he  must  supply.  These,  too,  he  must 
compose  and  arrange  in  a  beautiful  form  before 
he  even  thinks  of  the  details  of  his  decoration; 
and  it  is  these  necessary  elements  which  those 
who  wish  to  appreciate  architecture  must  under- 
stand first  and  analyze  first  and  appreciate  first ; 
for  though  the  greatest  buildings  are  not  only 
beautifully  composed,  but  beautifully  decor- 
ated as  well,  decoration  is  secondary,  and  no 
amount  of  ornament,  however  lovely,  can  ever 
compensate  for  bad  composition.  The  essen- 
tials of  a  building,  the  necessary  parts,  and  their 


136    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

relations  and  arrangement,  must  always  be  first 
in  the  minds  alike  of  architect  and  critic;  only 
thus  can  fine  architecture  be  conceived  and  ade- 
quately appreciated. 


A  CHAPTER  V 

THE  DECOBATIVE   MATERIAL  OF   ARCHITECTURE 

The  two  last  chapters  have  attempted  to  show 
how  the  structural  necessities  of  a  building  were 
used  to  produce  an  artistic  end  by  their  compo- 
sition and  grouping  in  accordance  with  the  de- 
mands of  beauty.  This  use  of  structural  ele- 
ments, if  rightly  handled,  will  produce  a  build- 
ing that  has  beauty;  such  a  building  may  even 
have  great  and  striking  beauty,  because  of  its 
absolute  simplicity.  Such  a  building,  however, 
even  in  its  beauty,  has  a  kind  of  naked,  unfin- 
ished look  about  it ;  although  it  may  appear  to 
have  a  great  and  rugged  strength,  it  will  seem 
to  be  rather  a  work  of  engineering  than  of 
art.  From  the  earliest  times  mankind  has  dec- 
orated those  things  which  are  useful,  letting 
his  imagination  play  over  the  forms  he  requires, 
until  he  makes  of  his  necessity  a  thing  of  beauty 
as  well. 

137 


138    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

This  tradition  of  decoration,  which  has  be- 
come almost  a  psychological  necessity,  does  not 
lose  its  force  when  the  necessary  object  is  beau- 
tiful in  itself;  indeed,  quite  the  reverse  is  the 
case;  for  the  beauty  innate  in  it  furnishes  the 
decorator  with  a  tremendous  inspiration  to 
start  with,  and  gives  him  the  supreme  oppor- 
tunity to  show  his  genius.  This  is  the  case 
in  architecture;  always  the  purely  necessary 
part  of  the  building,  the  structure,  however 
beautiful  in  itself,  has  been  an  invitation  and 
an  inspiration  to  the  world's  architects,  and  has 
furnished  them  opportunities  for  creating  beau- 
tiful works  of  a  great  art  that  forms,  next  to 
literature,  the  most  perfect  expression  and  the 
most  perfect  evidence  of  the  world's  life. 

The  position  of  this  decorative  element  in 
architecture  is  very  large.  To  some  critics,  of 
whom  Kuskin  is  the  foremost,  architecture  is 
merely  decoration,  nothing  more;  and  they 
judge  architecture  merely  by  its  ornament.  This 
point  of  view  is  as  one  sided  as  that  of  some 
engineers,  who  think  all  architecture  a  waste  of 
time  and  money,  because  they  could  build  build- 
ings equally  strong  more  cheaply.    To  the  great 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  139 

majority  of  men  and  women  either  extreme 
point  of  view  is  equally  absurd.  To  them  al- 
ways the  beautiful  building  has  meant  a  place 
to  work  or  play  or  rest,  as  well  as  an  artis- 
tic emotion,  and  a  house  has  meant  not  only  a 
roof  above,  but  beauty  within  and  without,  as 
well. 

It  is  true,  therefore,  that  an  adequate  appre- 
ciation of  good  architecture  can  come  only  from 
the  double  knowledge  of  structural  and  of  artis- 
tic elements,  from  an  appreciation  of  ornamen- 
tation as  well  as  an  appreciation  of  building  in 
itself.  This  double  knowledge  is  particularly 
necessary  because  in  the  greatest  buildings  of 
the  world  these  two  sides  of  architecture  are 
most  inextricably  combined,  so  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  say  just  what  is  purely  structural  and 
what  purely  decorative. 

Of  course,  the  decorative  material  of  architec- 
ture cannot  be  codified  in  any  such  simple  man- 
ner as  the  structural  material.  It  is  far  too 
wide  in  scope.  Almost  every  conceivable  form 
has  at  some  time  been  used  to  decorate  a  build- 
ing ;  geometry,  the  world's  flora  and  fauna,  man, 
woman,  child,  all  the  mythologies  of  the  nations, 


>v 


140     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

the  heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath  have 
been  called  npon  to  furnish  decorative  forms. 
The  best  that  can  be  done,  and  even  so  there  will 
be  exceptions,  is  to  make  the  broadest  sort  of 
classification,  into  two  kinds,  non-representa- 
tional ornament  and  representational  ornament. 
By  these  names  nothing  as  regards  history 
and  origin  is  implied.  By  non-representational 
ornament  is  meant  simply  that  ornament,  what- 
ever its  ultimate  origin,  which  seems  obviously 
not  to  seek  to  depict  any  one  thing,  or  any  group 
of  things,  in  the  world  around.  By  represen- 
tational ornament  is  meant  that  ornament  which 
depicts,  naturalistically  or  conventionally,  some 
natural  or  recognizable  object.  Under  the  first 
head  we  shall  include  geometric  ornament,  and 
certain  of  those  forms,  which,  though  originally 
developed  from  representations,  have  come  to 
have  a  form  almost  absolutely  conventional  and 
imaginary.  So  the  egg  and  dart  ornament, 
which  though  originally  developed  from  the 
lotus,  has  come  to  have  a  well  known  form  al- 
most absolutely  conventional,  we  shall  class  as 
non-representational  ornament.  On  the  other 
hand,  all  those  myriad  forms  of  classic  and 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  141 

Gotnic  art  which,  though  unrecognizable  as  de- 
picting some  one  plant  or  animal,  are  yet  ob- 
viously and  unmistakably  plants  and  animals, 
like  the  anthemion,  the  acanthus,  the  gryphon 
or  the  sphinx,  we  shall  class  as  representational 
ornament. 

The  most  important  kind  of  non-representa- 
tional ornament  is  at  the  same  time  the  most  im- 
portant kind  of  ornament  in  architecture.  This 
is  the  moulding.  The  word  " moulding"  is  a 
broad  term  applied  to  any  modulation  of  a  sur- 
face, either  projecting  or  receding,  or  both,  such 
as  would  be  described  if  a  straight  or  curved 
profile — the  section  of  the  moulding — were 
drawn  along  a  given  line.  In  fact,  many  mould- 
ings are  made  in  precisely  this  way;  a  knife  is 
cut  with  an  edge  formed  to  the  profile  of  the  de- 
sired moulding,  and  this  knife,  by  means 
of  a  plane,  or  a  hammer,  is  driven  through 
the  material,  and  what  it  leaves  is  the  "mould- 
ing." 

The  origin  of  mouldings  is  lost  in  the  past. 
As  far  back  as  we  know  they  have  been  used 
to  decorate  buildings.  Perhaps  their  origin  was 
manifold,  due  in  some  places  to  one  cause,  in 


142    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

others  to  something  else.  In  Egypt,  it  has  been 
suggested  that  mouldings  were  developed  from 
the  early  method  of  building  with  reeds  and 
clay;  several  reeds  bound  together  into  a  cyl- 
inder, acting  as  a  framework  around  the  top 
and  corners  of  a  hut,  forming  a  moulding  them- 
selves. In  countries  farther  north,  such  as 
Lycia,  or  Greece,  there  seem  evidences  that 
mouldings  were  derived  from  wooden  forms; 
from  the  projection  of  tree  trunks  used  as  beams 
in  the  frame  of  the  wooden  roof.  Whatever 
their  origin  may  have  been,  they  were  at  once 
appropriated  universally  and  developed  and 
refined  and  modified  continually,  and  used  with 
ever  increasing  freedom,  so  that  the  sole  distinc- 
tion and  the  crowning  beauty  of  many  a  build- 
ing consists  entirely  in  the  mouldings,  in  their 
perfection  of  form  and  placing. 

Mouldings,  like  any  class  of  forms  used  again 
and  again  by  mankind,  have  little  by  little  come 
to  be  classified  into  different  classes.  Of  course, 
the  sections  possible  are  infinite  in  number,  but 
infinite  as  they  are,  there  are  in  all  certain  eas- 
ily recognized  elements.  These  are  briefly  as 
follows : 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL 


143 


Mouldings. 

Fig.  11. 

a. 

Fascia 

f .  Cyma  Recta,  as  cap 

b. 

Fillet 

g.  Cyma  Recta,  as  base 

c. 

Ovolo 

h.  Cyma  Reversa,  as  cap 

d. 

Scotia 

i.    Cyma  Reversa,  as  base 

e. 

Torus 

The  fascia — a  flat  band  projecting  or  reced- 
ing from  the  face  of  the  wall. 

The  fillet — a  flat  band  narrower  than  the  fas- 
cia. 

The  ovolo — a  quarter  round,  convex. 

The  scotia — a  concave  curve  of  the  same  gen- 
eral cylindrical  type,  usually  elliptical  in  sec- 
tion. 

The  torus — a  semi-cylindrical  mould,  convex. 

The  cavetto — a  quarter  round,  concave. 


144    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

Then,  finally,  perhaps  the  most  important  of 
all,  the  cyma  reversa,  a  complex  curve,  convex 
above  and  concave  below,  and 

The  cyma  recta — concave  above  and  convex 
below. 

It  is  surprising  how  much  of  the  effect  of  good 
architecture  depends  upon  these  few  mouldings 
and  their  proper  combination  and  placing.  The 
reason  for  this  lies  in  the  fact  that  their  effect 
on  the  eye  is  that  of  long  bands  of  modulated 
light  and  shade;  and  architecture  is  in  general 
an  art  that  deals  primarily  with  light  and  shade, 
and  only  secondarily  with  colour.  It  is  not 
strange,  therefore,  that  these  long  bands  of 
light  and  shade  and  half-light,  incisive  as  they 
are,  determine  to  a  large  extent  the  final  success 
or  failure  of  a  building,  and  its  specific  char- 
acter. 

Take,  for  instance,  an  Egyptian  entrance.* 
Note  how  its  cornice,  that  great  sweeping  ca- 
vetto,  with  its  broad  shadow  and  the  light,  nar- 
row shade  of  the  torus  below,  sets  perfectly  the 
note  of  the  simple,  massive  dignity  of  the  whole. 
Then,  for  contrast,  look  at  a  late  Fifteenth  Cen- 
tury Italian  tomb,  chiselled  and  carved  with  a 
delicacy  like  that  of  silverware,  and  note  its 

*  See  Fig.  12,  page  145. 


TOMB    OF   COUNT    UGO,    THE    BADIA,    NEAR   FLORENCE,    ITALY 

This  tomb  by  Mino  da  Fiesole  illustrates  the  luxury  of  delicate  ornament, 
and  particularly  of  ornamented  mouldings,  which  was  a  salient  feature  of  the 
early  Italian  Renaissance.     See  page  144. 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL 


145 


Temple  Gateway  at  Karnak,  Egypt. 

Fig.  12.  The  simple,  strong  cornices  are  character- 
istic of  all  Egyptian  work. 

crowning  cornice — a  group  of  differing  mould- 
ings, topped  with  a  delicate  cyma  recta — each 
moulding  carved  till  it  sparkles.* 

Of  all  the  categories  of  mouldings,  the  most 
important  is  that  which  is  comprised  within 
the  classical  tradition,  for  no  nation  before  the 
Greeks  developed  mouldings  beyond  an  elemen- 
tary beginning,  and  all  the  nations  after  have, 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  144. 


146    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

directly  or  indirectly,  drawn  inspiration  from 
the  classic  civilizations  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
It  is  also  a  tradition  particularly  important  to 
ns,  because,  of  all  moulding  systems,  the  classic 
system  is  the  simplest,  the  clearest,  the  easiest 
to  understand  and  the  most  adaptable. 

The  reader  will  recall  that  mention  has  sev- 
eral times  been  made  of  the  triple  character  of 
many  architectural  features.  In  classic  mould- 
ings, this  tripartite  characteristic  appears 
again.  In  the  cornice,  for  instance,  which  is  in 
many  cases  the  most  important  moulding  group 
of  a  building,  there  are  three  main  portions ;  a 
crowning  moulding,  called  the  cymatium,  which 
is  usually  a  cyma  recta ;  below  this,  a  flat  band, 
the  corona,  which  projects  markedly  from  the 
wall,  and  casts  a  deep  shadow  down  it,  and 
finally,  under  this  corona,  and  supporting  it  at 
its  juncture  with  the  wall,  a  moulding  or  a  group 
of  mouldings,  called  the  bed  mould.  This  is 
the  typical  classical  cornice;  and  this  system 
holds,  whatever  be  the  modifications  of  the  de- 
tails. The  cymatium,  the  crown  mould,  is 
usually  a  cyma  recta,  because  this  moulding 
has  the  most  delicate  profile,  and  because  the 
lights  and  shades  and  half-lights  are  so  grace- 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  147 

fully  modulated  on  its  ever-changing  surface. 
The  corona,  its  flat  band  catching  the  light,  runs 
straight  and  strong  around  the  whole  building, 


H""w'),8l|,tll"^)llmHli!vlllll|M 


Fig.  13.     A  typical  classic  cornice. 

binding  it  together  like  a  snood.  Below  this, 
in  its  shadows,  are  the  playing  half-lights  on  the 
bed  mould,  that  relieve  the  darkness,  and  give 
strength  and  support  to  the  whole  cornice,  so 
that  it  may  form,  with  its  many  bands  of  differ- 
ing value,  a  crown  to  the  building  or  feature  it 
decorates. 

In  playing  with  this  idea  the  classic  design- 
ers devised  many  variations.  They  elaborated 
the  bed  mould,  made  it  double  or  triple,  or  in- 
serted a  row  of  dentils,  whose  flat,  narrow 
blocks  and  deep  spaces  between  gave  a  pleasing 


148     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

accented  note.  In  Roman  times  modillions  or 
scrolled  brackets  were  added  under  the  corona, 
and  the  Corinthian  cornice  was  produced,  a 
form  that  has  the  richest  and  most  complex 
light  and  shade  of  any  of  the  various  classes  of 
cornice.  The  Romans  appreciated  early,  too, 
the  value  of  contrast  in  moulding  design ;  of  al- 
ternating square  and  round,  and  convex  and 
concave;  the  value,  for  instance,  of  a  narrow, 
flat  band  or  fillet  between  two  curved  mouldings ; 
and  in  the  possible  combinations  of  these  square 
or  flat  and  receding  or  projecting  curves  they 
became  so  expert  that  at  the  present  time  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  invent  a  new  beautiful  com- 
bination ;  all  we  can  do  is  to  study  and  restudy, 
to  refine  and  rerefine  the  elements  left  us  by  the 
past. 

During  the  centuries,  say,  from  1200  to  1550, 
when  Gothic  architecture  was  the  prevailing 
style  in  all  the  European  countries,  save  Italy, 
new  uses  for  mouldings  gave  a  fresh  impetus  to 
moulding  design.  The  earlier  Romanesque 
methods  of  building  had  begun  this  develop- 
ment, particularly  the  use  of  the  stepped  arch.* 

*  A  stepped  arch  is  such  a  combination  of  concentric 
arch  rings,  one  within  and  behind  the  other,  that  a  section 
through  them  would  be  a  series  of  steps. 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  149 

It  was  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world  to  round 
the  corners  of  the  successive  projecting  con- 
centric arch  rings,  and  once  this  was  done  the 
door  was  open  to  a  thousand  further  complica- 
tions and  modifications.  The  whole  develop- 
ment of  Gothic  mouldings  is  as  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  development  of  these  arch  forms 
and  sections  as  that  of  the  classic  mouldings  is 
with  the  development  of  the  horizontal  cornice. 
The  Gothic  moulding  designer  recognized  no 
rules.  Gothic  moulding  profiles  are  infinite  in 
variety.  In  general,  however,  they  may  be  eas- 
ily differentiated  from  classic  mouldings  by  the 
small  use  made  of  the  fillet,  or  in  fact,  of  any 
flat  members  at  all,  and  secondly,  by  the  use  of 
deeply  cut,  receding  members,  that  give  very 
dark  shadow  lines.  "Quirking,"  that  is,  the 
bringing  of  the  top  or  bottom  of  a  moulding 
strongly  and  suddenly  out  or  in,  to  give  em- 
phasis, is  the  rule,  rather  than  the  exception. 
In  addition,  the  Gothic  architect  liked  to  com- 
bine all  sorts  of  mouldings,  projecting  and  re- 
ceding, into  one  band,  much  wider  and  more 
complex  in  light  and  shade  than  the  classic 
architect  would  have  permitted;  indeed,  no 
small  part  of  that  air  of  impressive  and  com- 


150    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

plex  mystery  which  is  so  characteristic  of  a 
Gothic  church  comes  from  precisely  the  com- 
plexity of  surface  of  these  elaborate  mouldings, 
with  their  lack  of  flat  surfaces. 

This  lack  of  fillets,  and  the  resulting  round- 
ness and  softness  of  effect,  was  sometimes  car- 
ried to  extremes.  In  English  "decorated 
Gothic,"  which  is  the  style  of  the  choirs  of  Ely 
and  Lincoln,*  the  arch  moulds  became  mere  se- 
ries of  almost  meaningless  curves,  this  one  pro- 
jecting and  the  next  receding,  and  though  there 
is  a  certain  mysterious  charm  in  the  continuous 
changing  light  and  shade  of  such  a  moulding, 
the  trained  eye  feels  the  need  of  some  flat  sur- 
face on  which  to  rest.  Between  the  cornice  of 
the  Erectheum  at  Athens  and  the  arches  and 
piers  of  an  English  decorated  Gothic  church, 
there  is  the  same  difference  as  that  between  a 
dialogue  of  Plato  and  a  mediaeval  romance. 

During  the  Renaissance,  classic  mouldings  in- 
evitably came  back  into  use,  with  the  rest  of  the 
classic  forms.  But  there  was  a  difference.  The 
eye  of  the  architect  had  been  too  long  trained 
in  the  freedom  and  subtleties  of  the  Gothic 
moulds  to  be  entirely  satisfied  with  the  Roman 
or  the  Greek  forms ;  so  it  is  in  the  mouldings  of 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


s  t 
2£ 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  151 

the  Renaissance,  particularly  those  of  early 
date,  in  which  lie  the  greatest  differences  be- 
tween Renaissance  work  and  the  earlier  build- 
ings of  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  Thus,  in  the 
tomb  mentioned  earlier,  there  are  a  hundred 
subtleties  and  peculiarities  of  moulding  profile, 
for  which  it  is  impossible  to  find  an  exact  prece- 
dent. 

Gothic  architecture  struck  off  the  shackles  of 
the  moulding  designer ;  but  it  remained  for  the 
Renaissance  to  instill  personality  into  mould- 
ings; and  personal  they  have  remained  ever 
since.  All  the  most  successful  architects  have 
been  very  careful  with  mouldings,  and  if  one 
could  look  into  the  office  of  a  great  architect 
when  a  building  is  being  detailed  and  see  with 
what  loving  care  every  moulding  is  studied  and 
restudied,  again  and  again,  by  itself  and  in  re- 
lation to  its  surroundings,  by  means  of  drawings 
and  models,  until  exactly  the  right  section  is  ar- 
rived at  to  give  the  proper  band  of  light  and 
shade ;  if  one  could  see  all  this,  he  would  realize 
more  clearly  why  the  good  building — the  Bos- 
ton Public  Library,  for  instance — is  more  pleas- 
ing than  a  bad  one.  He  may  realize  that  the 
apartment  house  next  door  is  ugly ;  but  he  does 


152     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

not  realize  that  that  crowning  cyma  is  thrice 
too  big  and  flaring  and  soft,  stamped  cheaply 
out  of  a  cheap  metal,  or  that  mouldings  around 
the  door  are  big  where  they  should  be  small, 
and  small  where  they  should  be  big.  If  he  did 
realize  this,  it  is  certain  that  when  he  came  to 
build  for  himself,  he  would  see  to  it  that  he  had 
his  house  designed,  and  designed  well,  by  an  ar- 
chitect, and  not  merely  thrown  together  by  an 
underpaid  builder's  draughtsman. 

There  are  some  mouldings  which  do  not  de- 
pend for  their  effect  upon  their  profile  alone, 
for  their  surface  is  itself  broken  up  by  intricate 
carving.  From  the  earliest  times  the  decora- 
tive instinct  of  man  was  never  entirely  satisfied 
with  the  plain  curved  surface  of  a  moulding. 
Throughout  the  long  course  of  Egyptian  art  the 
one  important  moulding,  the  great  cavetto  cor- 
nice, was  painted  in  brilliant  colours  that  va- 
ried the  monotony  of  the  long,  simple  shadow. 
The  Greeks,  even  in  very  primitive  times,  seem 
to  have  painted  almost  all  their  mouldings,  and 
as  their  skill  grew,  they  came  at  last  to  carve 
the  mouldings  in  patterns  similar  to  those  they 
had  painted  before.  To  them  we  owe  the  egg 
and  dart,  that  most  common  of  decorated  mould- 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  153 

ings ;  the  water  leaf,  and  the  successful  use  of 
dentils — small  rectangular  blocks,  placed  close 
together,  which  give,  with  their  alternating  light 
faces  and  deep  shadowed  clefts,  such  life  and  va- 
riety to  a  cornice.  To  the  decoration  of  their 
mouldings  the  Greeks  applied  the  same  subtlety, 
the  same  insight,  the  same  delicate  refinement  of 


Fig.  14.     The  most  common  decorated  mouldings: 

a.  Greek  egg  and  dart 

b.  Roman  egg  and  dart 

c.  Greek  water  leaf 

d.  Roman  water  leaf 

taste,  and  the  same  beauty  of  workmanship  that 
they  applied  to  their  sculpture,  and,  working  as 
they  did  with  such  mental  tools,  they  stumbled 
almost  immediately  upon  the  prime  principle  of 
moulding  decoration.  They  discovered  that  the 
most  beautiful  decorated  mouldings  were  those 
in  which  the  very  form  of  the  decoration  ex- 
presses and  emphasizes  the  profile  of  the  mould- 
ing.* 
The  egg  and  dart  is  one  of  the  most  univer- 

*  See  also  the  Plate  opposite  page  170, 


154    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

sally  popular  mouldings,  because  it  illustrates 
this  principle  so  absolutely.    It  is  a  form  de- 
vised to  decorate  the  ovolo,  the  convex  quarter 
round ;  and  the  most  cursory  glance  at  it  shows 
every  accented  line  emphasizing  this  convex 
curve.    The  sides  of  the  egg  are  of  this  shape, 
and  they  are  emphasized  strongly  by  a  frame. 
The  egg  itself  has  a  pleasing  roundness  that  em- 
phasizes the  roundness  of  the  moulding ;  and  the 
straight  darts  between  the  eggs  serve  merely 
to  accentuate  the  roundness  on  either  side.    It 
is  this  absolute  correspondence  between  the 
shape  of  the  moulding  and  the  shape  of  its 
decoration,  coupled  with  the  exquisite  rhythm 
of  accented  and  unaccented,  of  wide  and  nar- 
row, lights  and  darks  which  has  made  this  egg 
and  dart  moulding  so  universally  appreciated. 
The  water  leaf  is  another  example  of  similar 
correspondence.    The  water-leaf  moulding  is  ap- 
plied to  a  cyma  reversa  moulding;  and  every 
line  in  it  is  a  line  of  double  curvature  that  re- 
calls the  double  curve  of  the  profile.*     Conse- 
quently, next  to  the  egg  and  dart,  the  water-leaf 
moulding  has  been  the  most  popular  of  all  dec- 
orated mouldings ;  and  at  the  time  of  the  dawn 
of  the  Renaissance  in  Italy,  it  was  these  two 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  170. 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  155 

mouldings  which  took  fastest  hold  of  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  Fifteenth  Century  sculptors  and 
architects,  and  tomb  and  altar  piece  and  door 
and  cornice  were  embellished  with  them.* 

This  principle  of  the  correspondence  of  pro- 
file with  decoration  is  not  limited  to  the  archi- 
tecture of  Greece,  Rome  and  the  Renaissance ;  it 
is  universal,  for  to  try  to  decorate  an  object 
which  has  a  peculiar  and  accented  surface,  like 
a  moulding,  with  a  form  which  neglects  and  con- 
tradicts the  shape  of  this  surface  is  manifestly 
illogical.  In  Gothic  architecture  the  principle 
is  somewhat  hidden  by  the  Gothic  artist's  love 
for  naturalistic  representation,  but  in  the  best 
Gothic  work  one  will  find  the  shape  of  the 
moulding  always  carefully  considered  and  sub- 
tly expressed  in  the  design  of  its  decoration.  It 
is  only  a  sign  of  decadence  in  the  florid  Gothic 
of  Germany  or  Spain  that  the  pure  form  of  the 
moulding  is  forgotten,  and  naturalistic  exuber- 
ance runs  riot,  forming  mouldings  into  twigs 
and  branches,  hiding  forced  and  uncouth  forms 
under  a  gorgeous  luxuriance  of  intricate  carv- 
ing. 

The  study  of  mouldings  themselves  is  inter- 
esting and  full  of  fascination.     Their  myriad 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  144. 


156    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

delicacies  of  form  and  the  subtle  play  of  light 
on  their  changing  surfaces  may  be  a  continual 
delight.  And  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  far  afield 
to  begin  the  study.  In  one  's  own  home  there  are 
undoubtedly  many  mouldings :  door  trims,  pic- 
ture frames,  table  tops,  book-case  cornices.  Be- 
gin with  these,  running  your  thumb  over  them, 
follow  their  curves,  watch  them  under  differ- 
ing lights.  You  will  soon  learn  to  notice  slight 
differences,  to  find  that  some  please,  and  some 
leave  you  cold,  to  see  that  some  are  coarse,  and 
some  delicate  and  refined.  That  is  true  appre- 
ciation. 

It  is,  however,  only  when  mouldings  are  stu- 
died with  relation  to  their  position  that  their 
importance  and  significance  can  be  grasped.  A 
moulding  may  be  good  in  one  place  and  bad 
in  another,  coarse  in  one  position  and  refined 
in  another.  It  will  be  worth  while,  therefore, 
to  summarize  briefly  the  principal  uses  of  the 
moulding,  and  show  what  bearing  they  have 
upon  its  design. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  of  all  is  the  use 
of  the  moulding,  or  a  group  of  mouldings,  as 
a  cornice.  We  have  already  touched  upon  the 
importance  of  the  cornice;  and  a  walk  among 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  157 

any  buildings  whatsoever,  will  prove  it  if  there 
are  still  doubts.  If  in  the  neighbourhood  there 
is  a  house  of  that  awful  time  in  American  archi- 
tecture, known  as  the  " jig-saw' *  period,  notice 
in  it  the  way  the  projecting  cornice,  with  its  mul- 
titudinous tiny  mouldings,  hangs  out  like  a  shelf, 
and  how  the  stringy,  inconsequential  brackets 
below  only  emphasize  its  weakness  and  its  ill- 
proportions.  Then  find  some  garish  business 
building,  or  apartment  house,  just  built  on  a 
narrow  city  lot.  It  has  a  great,  much-decorated 
cornice,  stamped  out  of  sheet  metal,  sawn  sharp 
off  at  the  ends;  the  whole,  cheap,  awkward, 
glued  willy  nilly  to  the  building,  an  obvious  ex- 
crescence. These  are  examples  of  how  a  cor- 
nice may  ruin  a  building ;  these  are  illustrations 
of  a  lack  of  imagination  and  an  artistic  insin- 
cerity all  too  common.  For  contrast,  study  the 
Kiccardi  Palace  in  Florence,*  but  there  are,  for- 
tunately, examples  almost  as  good  in  any 
American  city,  and  their  number  is  increasing. 
Whenever  the  cornice  seems  an  integral  part  of 
the  building,  necessary  and  inevitable,  either  as 
a  structural  necessity  to  support  the  roof  and 
take  the  gutter,  or  as  an  artistic  necessity  to 
crown  and  terminate  fittingly  an  otherwise  in- 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  158. 


158    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

complete  wall ;  when,  in  addition,  its  proportion 
is  good,  and  its  mouldings  well  studied,  so  that 
the  light  and  shade  on  it  are  interesting  and 
varied,  without  being  complex  and  restless,  then 
the  cornice  is  well  designed. 

It  is  hard  to  be  more  definite  than  this  in  the 
criticism  of  cornices;  the  possibilities  are  too 
varied.  It  seems  true,  however,  that,  in  general, 
a  cornice  should  have  the  lighter,  more  delicate 
moulding,  like  the  cavetto  and  the  cyma  recta, 
at  the  top,  and  mouldings  stronger  and  simpler, 
like  the  ovolo,  and  the  cyma  reversa  below; 
and  that  usually  it  is  a  good  thing  to  have  at 
least  one  strongly  marked  flat  face  running 
through,  to  bind  the  whole  together  and  give  it 
accent.  It  is  well,  too,  to  keep  in  mind  that 
the  cornice  has  two  separate  functions,  an  artis- 
tic one,  as  the  cap  to  the  wall,  and  a  structural 
one,  as  a  finish  to  a  roof,  that  is,  as  eaves.  In 
criticising  any  cornice,  both  functions  must  be 
kept  in  mind,  for  if  there  is  a  strongly  marked 
roof  its  relation  to  the  wall  will,  to  some  extent, 
determine  the  cornice.  The  chateaux  of  the 
Loire  valley,  almost  all  dating  from  the  time 
of  Francis  the  First,  owe  a  great  deal  of  the 


RICCARDI    PALACE,    FLORENCE,    ITALY 

A  facade  which  is  distinguished  by  great  simplicity  and  a  majestic  crowning 
cornice.     See  page  157. 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  159 

beauty  of  their  cornices  to  this  relation ;  the  cor- 
nices are  kept  extremely  flat  because  the  roofs 
above  are  so  steep,  and  interest  is  given  by  elab- 
orate decoration  of  nearly  flat  surfaces,  where 
bold  projecting  mouldings  and  a  deep  shadow 
would  have  cut  the  building  in  two,  and  de- 
stroyed the  connection  between  walls  and  roof, 
instead  of  emphasizing  it,  as  do  these  lovely 
flat  cornices. 


Fig.  15.  Cornice  from  the  wing  of  Francis  I 
Chateau  of  Blois,  France. 

Mouldings  are  also  very  important  at  the 
base  of  a  building,  or  a  wall,  inside  or  outside, 
to  mitigate  the  harshness  of  the  angle  between 
wall  and  ground  or  wall  and  floor.    Any  build- 


160     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

ing  looks  stronger  if  it  has  an  adequate  base. 
It  follows  from  the  very  position  of  this  feature 
that  its  mouldings  must  be  strong  in  effect,  not 
weak  and  indecisive.  A  weak  base  is  almost 
worse  than  none.  Often  in  brick-work  the  base 
consists  merely  of  one  or  two  small  projections, 
unmoulded,  sometimes  further  accented  by  a 
row  of  bricks  on  edge ;  a  solution  that  is  entirely 
satisfactory  because  so  absolutely  in  harmony 
with  the  material.  But  in  stone  buildings  there 
is  a  much  greater  flexibility  of  treatment,  the 
only  requirement  being  apparent  strength  and 
adequate  size.  The  next  common  moulding  for 
this  use  is  the  cyma  recta  upside  down;  for  in 
this  position  it  is  as  strong  and  sturdy  as  it  is 
light  and  graceful  in  the  cornice.  There  is  some- 
thing about  the  cyma  reversa  too  abrupt  for  a 
base;  it  lacks  just  that  touch  of  horizontality 
which  makes  the  cyma  recta  so  successful.  In 
wooden  buildings  the  structural  problem  is  dif- 
ferent, for  the  masonry  foundation  wall  usually 
recedes  from  the  face  of  the  shingle  or  clap- 
boards, instead  of  projecting,  and  in  this  case 
the  wall  covering  is  merely  given  a  little  curve 
out  at  the  bottom,  with  a  simple  moulding  be- 
low; and  somehow  this  simple  base,  or  water 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  161 

table,  always  seems  ample  for  the  building 
above  it. 

Moreover,  mouldings  are  often  used  as 
frames.  This  is,  perhaps,  their  commonest  use ; 
door  trim,  window  trim,  panelling,  are  a  few  of 
the  many  places  where  they  are  so  used.  As  a 
general  rule  mouldings  used  for  frames  must  be 
more  delicate  and  flatter  than  cornices  or  bases, 
for  too  large  mouldings  cast  such  a  heavy 
shadow  that  they  cut  off  the  opening  or  panel 
with  too  great  a  distinctness.  It  is  one  of  the 
chief  faults  of  Victorian  architecture,  both  in 
this  country  and  in  England,  that  all  its  trim 
mouldings  are  monstrously  heavy,  full  of  bold 
curves  and  deep  cuts,  piled  one  on  another,  till 
the  frame  becomes  forbidding,  rather  than  dec- 
orative. Equally  unsatisfactory  is  that  trim 
used  so  commonly  at  a  later  period,  and  still 
used,  consisting  of  straight  boards  scratched 
with  a  few  ineffective  half-rounds  down  the  cen- 
tre and  joined  at  the  corners  of  the  opening 
with  square  blocks  on  which  are  carved  mean- 
ingless circles.  Good  trim  is  generally  of  three 
sorts ;  either  flat,  or  with  one  main  moulding  of 
delicate  section  on  the  outside,  and  flat  faces 
diminishing  in  width  within,  or  so  moulded  as 


162    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

to  give  one  easy  and  delicate  sweep  from  out- 
side to  inside.  And  no  frame,  no  matter  what 
its  scheme  or  use,  must  ever  be  so  large  as  to 
overbalance  the  space  framed,  or  so  heavy  in 
projection  as  to  appear  to  be  an  excrescence, 
and  not  a  decoration  of  the  surface  on  which  it 
is  placed. 

The  case  of  panel  moulds  is  different.  Here 
the  moulding  is  often  an  integral  and  necessary 
part  of  the  design,  and  its  size  and  projections 
are,  to  a  certain  extent,  already  determined. 
Then,  too,  its  size  is  usually  so  small  that  any 
complicated  system  like  that  of  the  trim  is  im- 
possible. The  same  rule,  however,  that  gov- 
erns the  design  of  trim  governs  panel  moulds ; 
and  this,  coupled  with  general  delicacy  and 
beauty  of  profile  and  shadow,  forms  the  only 
criterion  of  good  and  bad  design. 

In  masonry  walls  openings  or  niches  are 
often  framed  with  decorative  systems  of  mould- 
ings analogous  to  the  trim.  These  systems  are 
termed  architraves ;  many  of  the  most  beautiful 
doorways  of  the  world  owe  a  large  part  of  their 
beauty  to  architraves.  And  if  flatness  and  ap- 
parent unity  are  necessary  in  interior  door 
frames,  how  much  more  so  are  they  in  monu- 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  163 

mental  architraves !  For  there  is  a  playfulness 
allowable  in  wood  or  plaster  that  in  dignified 
stone  would  appear  frivolous  and  out  of  place. 

Some  there  may  be  who  will  object  to  this 
rule  of  frame  design,  and  point  triumphantly 
to  a  superb  Gothic  gateway  as  an  example  of  a 
heavy  series  of  mouldings  used  successfully  as 
a  frame,  the  doorway  of  Notre  Dame,  for  in- 
stance. This  objection  is  more  apparent  than 
real,  for  in  good  Gothic  the  mouldings  never 
project  far  in  front  of  the  wall ;  they  are  cut  on 
the  thickness  of  the  wall  itself,  revealing  its 
depth  and  giving  mystery  and  charm  to  the  door 
within.  In  reality,  these  myriad  mouldings  are 
a  frame  only  incidentally :  primarily,  and  most 
important,  they  are  an  expression  of  the  pow- 
erful arch  that  supports  the  great  wall  or  gable 
above.  Exactly  the  same  is  true  of  the  intricate 
mouldings  on  the  nave  arch  of  a  Gothic  church ; 
they  are  less  a  frame  than  an  expression  of  the 
arch  idea  itself.*  Notice  how  strong  and  virile 
are  the  lights  and  shadows  and  how  the  arch  line 
is  repeated  over  and  over  again  in  lines  of  light 
and  dark. 

The  last  main  use  of  the  moulding  is  its  use 
as  a  "string  course,"  that  is,  its  use  in  horizon- 

*  See  the  Plates  opposite  pages  56  and  150. 


164     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

tal  bands  across  a  building  between  base  and 
cornice.  The  string  course  may  be  used  to  ex- 
press floor  levels,  or  it  may  be  used  merely 
decoratively  to  cut  the  building  into  pleasing 
vertical  relationships.  There  is  often  one  above 
the  first  or  second  floor,  to  make  the  bottom 
stories  count  as  a  base,  and  one  near  the  top  of 
the  building  to  form  with  the  cornice  an  ade- 
quate crown,  while  the  shaft  between  is  un- 
broken. String  courses  themselves  are  of  com- 
paratively little  importance;  it  is  by  position 
that  they  gain  their  significance.  In  general,  in 
small  buildings  they  are  to  be  avoided;  and  in 
large  ones  to  be  used  with  restraint.  Of  the 
design  of  the  string  course  itself  there  is  little 
to  be  said;  a  hundred  different  buildings  may 
require  a  hundred  different  profiles,  and  their 
effect  is  their  sole  test.  They  ought  never  to 
conflict  with  the  cornice,  nor  to  seem  to  cut  the 
building  into  too  distinct  parts;  beyond  that, 
the  architect's  only  limitation  is  the  propor- 
tion and  the  style  of  the  rest  of  the  building. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  in  this  chapter  to 
give  an  absolutely  complete  list  of  the  use  of 
mouldings,  nor  to  treat  of  them  exhaustively. 
Such  a  treatment  would  be  beyond  the  scope  of 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  165 

this  work;  it  would  demand  a  book  in  itself. 
The  foregoing  discussion  is  given  merely  as  a 
suggestive  outline,  to  point  out  certain  salient 
features  of  moulding  design,  so  that  the  reader 
may  start  out  for  himself  to  study  mouldings, 
and  thus  lay  the  foundations  for  a  clearer  and 
truer  personal  appreciation. 

There  are,  of  course,  other  kinds  of  non-rep- 
resentational ornament,  but  there  is  not  much 
that  need  be  said  of  them.  There  is  the  whole 
field  of  geometric  ornament,  the  use  of  squares, 
ellipses,  checker-boards,  frets,  either  in  bands 
or  over  broad  fields.  There  is  just  one  kind  of 
ornament  to  which  reference  must  be  made,  be- 
cause of  its  sincerity,  its  beauty,  and  its  grad- 
ually growing  use;  and  that  is  the  kind  of  or- 
nament produced  by  the  combination  of  differ- 
ent materials;  such  as  brick  and  tile,  or  brick 
of  differing  colours,  or  brick  and  stone.  It  is  an 
old  method,  but  for  many  years  out  of  fashion. 
We  find  it  on  Tudor  houses  in  England,  in  the 
form  of  lozenge-shaped  patterns,  produced  by 
the  insertion  of  dark  and  light  bricks  in  certain 
places;  the  pattern  usually  charmingly  irregu- 
lar, wandering  naively  over  a  gable  end,  and 
then  dying  away,  or  changing  abruptly  where 


166    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

the  width  of  the  brick  work  made  it  difficult  to 
make  the  pattern  come  out  straight.  There  is 
an  especially  good  example  of  this  treatment 
on  the  front  of  Hampton  Court  Palace,  near 
London,  and  a  modern  example  in  the  Duncan 
house,  recently  built  in  Newport,  Ehode  Island. 
Lately,  the  increasing  careful  study  of  the  ar- 
chitecture of  the  past  has  showed  us  the  possi- 
bilities latent  in  this  sort  of  thing,  and  more 
and  more,  with  greater  freedom  and  skill,  we 
are  beginning  to  have  buildings  with  the  charm- 
ing texture  that  a  subtle  pattern  gives;  and 
more  and  more,  we  are  substituting  for  cheap 
and  ugly  metal  cornices  bands  of  gaily-coloured 
brick  or  tile,  or  terra  cotta,  to  fulfill  their  aes- 
thetic purpose  in  a  saner  and  more  sincere 
manner. 

Of  all  kinds  of  ornament,  however,  it  is  the 
ornament  of  representation  that  has  the  strong- 
est grip  on  human  sensibilities,  and  that  touches 
with  the  greatest  poignancy  the  depths  of  ar- 
tistic appreciation.  Ever  since  our  ancestors 
painted  buffaloes  and  mammoths  on  their  cave 
walls,  or  carved  them  on  bones,  humanity  has 
delighted  in  pictures.  Almost  every  child  draws 
pictures  of  the  things  that  appeal  to  him  most ; 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  167 

engines,  and  boats,  and  horses,  and  houses,  and 
people;  and  however  deeply  buried  by  later 
training  and  daily  tasks,  in  most  of  us  this  pic- 
ture-making instinct  lives  always.  It  is  this 
picture-making  instinct  applied  to  architecture 
that  produces  representational  ornament,  and 
makes  us  warm  to  a  beautifully  carved  flower 
frieze  more  readily  than  to  a  Greek  fret. 

From  the  earliest  times,  this  picture-making 
instinct  has  been  bound  up  inextricably  with  the 
religious  instinct.  The  savage  often  endows  his 
pictures  with  a  magic  life  and  a  deep  symbol- 
ism, and  traces  of  this  feeling  linger  yet.  That 
is  why  Mr.  Kuskin  laid  such  stress  upon  repre- 
sentational ornament,  looking  at  it  with  a  relig- 
ious earnestness.  Ornament  was  to  him  more 
than  decoration;  it  was  a  form  of  worship,  al- 
most sacramental.  Its  appeal  to  him  was  as 
much  moral  as  aesthetic ;  and  from  this  attitude 
of  his  he  developed  his  queerly  coloured  views  of 
architecture,  and  his  queerly  warped  theories  of 
ornament.  All  praise  to  him  for  the  serious 
and  reverent  nature  of  his  criticism!  A  great 
deal  more  of  that  spirit  in  our  American  design 
would  give  us  better,  freer,  more  beautiful 
buildings.     And  yet  appreciation  of  Kuskin 's 


168     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

earnestness  and  sincerity  must  not  blind  us  to 
the  errors  of  his  one-sided  viewpoint ;  nor  need 
we  follow  him  in  every  detail,  and  we  may  rest 
assured  that  the  lovely  fall  and  the  swaying 
curves  of  a  piece  of  hung  drapery  are  as  prop- 
erly decorative  as  the  similar  curves  in  a  twin- 
ing vine;  the  beauty  of  the  ornament  lies 
primarily  in  line,  and  balance,  and  light  and 
shade,  and  not  in  subject. 
\i  But  to  deny  that  the  subject  has  anything  to 
do  with  the  effect  of  ornament  is  as  illogical  as 
to  go  to  the  other  extreme  with  Ruskin.  The 
Egyptians  felt  an  awe  and  a  thrill  at  their 
painted  lotus  that  is  foreign  to  us ;  but  the 
mediaeval  peasant's  pleasure  at  seeing  his  native 
plants  carved  on  his  church  door  we  might  have, 
if  we  would.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  modern 
architect,  under  the  present  professional  sys- 
tern,  is  so  occupied  with  structural  details,  and 
the  main  questions  of  composition,  that  he  can- 
not afford  to  study  every  bit  of  ornament  from 
nature;  he  turns  naturally  to  ornament  of  the 
past  that  he  knows  is  beautiful,  and  the  rele- 
vance of  its  subject  to  modern  life  is  lost  sight 
of.  This  is  not  a  permanent  condition ;  it  is  the 
inevitable  result  of  the  suddenness  of  our  ses- 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  169 

thetic  growth,  and  the  immense  amount  of  work 
to  be  done  in  a  short  time.  Already  there  are 
signs  of  a  healthier  attitude ;  already  our  archi- 
tects '  are  beginning  to  consider  classic  orna- 
ment more  as  a  basis,  and  less  as  a  set  of  forms 
to  be  slavishly  followed.  More  and  more  on  our 
best  work  touches  of  native  flora,  bands  of  oak 
leaves  or  the  like  are  appearing,  and  only  re- 
cently a  firm  of  New  York  architects  worked 
out  with  their  modeller,  for  the  Mary  Baker  G. 
Eddy  memorial,  near  Boston,  a  set  of  forms 
classic  in  feeling,  but  based  on  the  morning 
glory  and  the  wild  rose,  that,  as  ornament,  are 
nearly  perfect.  These  friezes  and  panels  have 
the  delicacy  and  grace  of  ornament  of  the  best 
Eoman  or  Renaissance  work,  but  in  addition 
they  are  alive  with  the  freshness  of  real  crea- 
tion, and  instinct  with  an  appeal  which  the  pure 
classic  would  never  have  possessed.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  this  example  is  but  the  beginning  of 
a  movement  in  American  architecture  towards  a 
new  appreciation  of  the  opportunity  that  our 
native  forms  offer,  and  a  new  freedom  in  the 
treatment  of  the  skill  of  the  past. 

Historic  ornament  has,  nevertheless,  a  tre- 
mendously important  place  in  the  understand- 


170     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

ing  of  our  art  at  the  present  time,  and  an  under- 
standing of  it  is  vitally  necessary  to  the  appre- 
ciation of  architecture,  not  only  because  of  its 
important  relation  to  the  work  of  this  day,  but 
also  because  of  its  inherent  importance  in  the 
monuments  of  its  own  times.  Of  Egyptian, 
Babylonian,  and  Persian  ornament  little  need 
be  said,  for,  interesting  as  they  are,  and  beauti- 
ful in  their  own  place,  their  symbolism  is  so  im- 
portant that  it  is  impossible  to  begin  to  under- 
stand them  without  at  least  some  knowledge  of 
the  mythology  on  which  they  are  based,  and  that 
it  is  beyond  the  scope  of  this  book  to  give. 
Egyptian  ornament  is  interesting  from  two 
sources;  the  use  of  decorative  conventionaliza- 
tions of  the  sacred  lotus,  and  the  use  of  colour 
as  a  decoration  for  architecture. 

Forms,  to  the  Egyptians,  as  to  all  primitive 
peoples,  are  fluid,  susceptible  of  infinite  change, 
provided  certain  formulae  are  observed.  Thus, 
the  lotus  was  changed  into  a  thousand  forms, 
into  capitals  for  columns,  into  ornaments  for  all 
kinds  of  furniture,  into  decorative  spots,  to  be 
formed  into  rosettes  or  bands  or  all-over  pat- 
terns. Thus  the  human  figure  was  gradually 
conventionalized  from  the  fine  naturalism  of  the 


HSkW 


i$m> 


PQ 


W  cti 

g  § 

.2 

&  9 

<:  £ 

w  o 

H  'C 


DECOEATIVE  MATERIAL  171 

earlier  dynasties ;  and  the  size  of  the  figures  was 
determined,  not  by  reality  or  the  demands  of 
perspective,  but  by  the  ideal  importance  of  the 
figures  represented.  A  king  filled  a  whole  tem- 
ple front,  while  his  slave  was  scarce  two  stones 
high.  But  these  figures  were  always  grouped 
in  serried  ranks  and  combined,  big  and  little, 
with  hieroglyphic  inscriptions,  into  a  whole  that 
was  beautiful,  well  composed,  and  carefully  exe- 
cuted. The  Egyptian,  for  all  his  symbol- 
ism, was  always  an  artist;  the  magnificence  of 
his  buildings  in  their  ruin  bears  eloquent  wit- 
ness to  the  fact  that  his  symbolism  and  his  aes- 
thetic creativeness  walked  always  hand  in  hand. 
This  decorative  ability,  this  innate  feeling  for 
beauty,  is  equally  evidenced  by  the  colour  deco- 
ration of  the  Egyptian  buildings.  We,  who  have 
lived  always  in  the  quiet,  cloudy  north,  can 
never  realize  the  absolute  necessity  for  colour 
in  the  architecture  of  the  sun-steeped  south. 
The  blaze  of  tropic  day  on  stone  or  stucco  de- 
mands colour  to  mitigate  its  dazzle,  and  colour 
the  Egyptians  gave  it,  blues  and  greens,  browns 
and  reds,  and  a  very  little  yellow  and  white,  for 
in  the  use  of  colour  the  Egyptian  was  as  con- 
ventional as  in  his  use  of  form,     The  colour, 


172     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

whether  outdoors  or  in,  is  always  in  flat  masses, 
so  that  the  solidity  of  the  decorated  surface  is 
never  lost.  Therein  lies  the  lesson  to  us ;  if  we 
wish  to  produce  that  decorative  greatness,  that 
quietness,  that  solidity,  that  air  of  ever-living 
strength,  there  is  but  one  way  to  do  it,  to  make 
our  ornament,  whatever  it  is,  pictorial  or  other- 
wise, primarily  decorative ;  to  keep  it  always  an 
integral  part  of  the  surface  to  which  it  is  ap- 
plied. 

But  decoratively  skilful  as  the  Egyptians 
were,  their  ideas  of  composition  and  design 
were  merely  elemental.  It  was  only  with  the 
Greeks  that  we  see  the  beginning  of  a  real  grasp 
of  the  value  of  line.  It  is  true,  they  built  largely 
on  Egyptian  origins,  but  what  with  the  Egypt- 
ians was  a  mere  incident  became  for  the  Greeks 
the  foundation  of  their  system.  This  was  the 
S  curve,  "the  curve  of  beauty,"  as  Hogarth 
called  it.  There  is  something  about  its  contin- 
ually changing  curvature  particularly  fascinat- 
ing, so  that,  once  discovered  and  applied,  it 
could  never  again  be  forgotten.  And  the  Greeks 
used  it  to  the  full ;  and  along  with  it  discovered 
the  value  of  gradually  changing  the  curvature  in 
every  line  they  used.    There  is  scarce  a  Greek 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  173 

vase,  or  a  Greek  moulding,  or  a  Greek  ornament 
which  has  any  circular  curves  in  it  at  all ;  every 
curve  is  something  subtly  fascinating,  starting 
nearly  a  straight  line,  becoming  more  and  more 
curved  throughout  its  length,  ending  with  the 
sharpest  curve  of  all.  This  wonderful  mastery 
of  curved  lines  was  combined  with  a  delicacy  of 
feeling  and  a  perfection  of  execution  unpar- 
alleled to  this  day.* 

It  is  also  to  the  Greeks  that  we  owe  several 
forms  that  have  been  father  to  a  tremendous 
tradition;  the  conventionalized,  acanthus  leaf, 
the  anthemion,  and  the  combination  of  these 
forms  with  a  branching  scroll.  The  acanthus 
leaf  especially,  at  first  spiky  and  flat,  later 
rounded  and  deeply  cut,  with  its  serrated 
edges,  and  strongly  modelled  surface,  forms  a 
motive  admirably  suited  for  almost  any  decora- 
tive purpose,  as  its  long  history  proves. 

Probably,  however,  it  is  for  their  skill  in 
using  the  human  figure  decoratively  that  the 
Greeks  were  best  known.  A  thousand  people 
know  the  Parthenon  frieze  where  one  knows  the 
anthemion.  They  were  supreme  in  this  field; 
no  such  flat  conventionalizations  as  those  the 
Egyptians   used   pleased   these   truth-seeking, 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  170. 


174    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

beauty-loving  people ;  their  figures  must  be  real, 
they  must  be  as  perfect  in  truth  and  beauty  as 
their  carvers  could  make  them.  Now  it  is  much 
more  difficult  to  use  naturalistic  figures  in  a 
decorative  way  than  it  is  to  use  flat  and  conven- 
tionalized figures,  but  the  difficulty  was  not  too 
great  for  the  Greeks  because  they  were  always 
pressing  on  toward  an  ever-growing  ideal.  Al- 
most all  the  early  Oriental  peoples  were  con- 
servative, priest-ruled,  superstitious,  and  their 
ornamental  forms  developed  naturally  into 
standardized  sacred  types,  with  which  they  were 
satisfied.  A  thousand  years  produced  less 
change  in  the  art  of  Egypt  than  a  hundred  in 
Greece  or  Eome,  because  in  Egypt  the  priestly 
ideal  had  been  attained  at  the  start.  In  Greece, 
however,  the  ideal  was  never  attained.  As  their 
philosophy  was  an  eager,  passionate,  unceasing 
attempt  to  get  at  the  facts  of  nature,  an  attempt 
that  grew  and  broadened  as  the  years  passed, 
always  searching,  searching,  and  never  attain- 
ing ;  so  their  art  was  a  continual  and  eager  de- 
velopment, ever  pressing  on  to  ideals  never 
attained,  because  as  the  art  developed,  so  did  the 
ideal;  always  striving  after  new  beauty,  never 
satisfied,  even  in  its  decadence  trying  for  new 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  175 

forms  of  splendour  never  before  achieved. 
Therein  lies  the  secret  of  Greek  greatness. 

There  was  something  of  the  same  eager  ideal- 
ism, though  of  a  more  homely  kind,  in  the 
Romans  who  followed  the  Greeks  as  the  fore- 
most people  of  the  world.  They  realized  the 
beauty  of  the  Greek  art ;  but  if  one  is  tempted  to 
say  it  satisfied  them,  let  him  study  a  little  some 
of  the  myriad  fragments  of  Roman  friezes  that 
remain  to  us.*  They  are  unsurpassed.  To  be 
sure,  they  use  the  acanthus — a  Greek  form,  and, 
perhaps,  the  branching  scroll,  also  a  Greek  form. 
But  there  is  about  them  a  splendour  of  light  and 
shade,  a  forceful  modelling,  a  saving  natural- 
ism, that  is  new.  True,  the  Romans  could  never 
carve  a  Parthenon  frieze  or  the  Phidian  frag- 
ments; but  on  buildings  of  the  great  scale  the 
Romans  loved,  it  was  an  impossibility  to  use 
figure  sculpture;  sixty  feet  of  perfectly  sculp- 
tured figures  are  wonderful ;  three  hundred  feet 
would  be  monotony.  That  the  Romans  had  a 
different  theory  from  that  of  the  Greeks  is  no 
argument  against  it;  and  the  ornament  of  the 
mediaeval  and  modern  world  owes  infinitely 
more  to  the  Romans  than  to  the  Greeks.  In 
particular,  the  Romans  were  the  first  people  to 

♦See  the  Plate  opposite  page  170. 


176    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE  . 

\  use  natural  foliage  extensively  as  ornament,  ' 
treated  in  a  natural  way;  and  the  first  people 
to  appreciate  the  value  of  varied  relief  in  carved 
ornament.  The  relief  in  all  Roman  ornament  is 
in  places  high  and  bold,  at  other  times  almost 
dying  into  the  background;  and  the  resulting 
light  and  shade,  though  with  less  precision,  per- 
haps, than  Greek  relief,  has  a  life  and  variety 
which  the  Greek  never  knew.* 

It  is  just  at  these  two  points  that  our  modern 
ornament  is  lacking.  We  have  learned  line  from 
the  Greeks,  and  from  the  Eomans,  splendour 
and  variety;  but  the  Roman  use  of  natural 
forms  we  pass  by,  and  too  often  our  ornament 
is  flat  and  uninteresting  in  relief,  as  if  stamped 
out  of  metal  or  sawn  from  wood,  rather  than 
modelled  in  clay  or  carved  out  of  solid  stone. 
.'  The  Byzantine  artists  had  still  another  dec- 
orative idea ;  their  mouldings  were  flattened  and 
often  soft  and  coarse  in  profile  and  their  relief 
is  flat  and  hard.  Nevertheless,  Santa  Sophia 
in  Constantinople  is  gorgeous  in  decorative  ef- 
f  ect.t  The  Byzantine  used  his  ornament  to  cover 
large  surfaces  with  patterns  of  extreme  intri- 
cacy, and  for  this  purpose  too  interesting  a  re- 

*  Compare  the  Plates  opposite  page  170. 
fSee  the  Plate  opposite  page  no. 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  177 

lief  had  to  be  avoided.  Of  Romanesque  carving 
it  is  not  necessary  to  speak,  for  all  that  is  good 
in  it  is  similar  in  spirit  to  either  Roman  or  By- 
zantine models,  or  else  was  developed  to  a  far 
higher  level  in  the  ornament  of  the  Gothic 
period. 


Capital  from  Southwell  Minster,  England. 

Fig.  16.  Note  the  naturalistic  treatment  of  the 
foliage. 

This  Gothic  ornament  has  already  been 
treated  at  some  length,  and  it  will  not,  therefore, 
be  necessary  to  add  much  more  concerning  it. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  Gothic  ornament  we  get 
the  lovely  flowering  of  the  whole  Gothic  spirit ; 
its  delight  in  good  craftsmanship,  its  slow 
growing  but  insistent  individualism,  its  naive 
sincerity,  even  its  reverent  mysticism.    At  times 


178    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

it  suffers  from  the  lack  of  the  classical  grasp  of 
line.  This  is  particularly  true  of  English 
Gothic;  the  capital  illustrated  has,  for  in- 
stance, a  somewhat  bulbous  silhouette,  and 
the  wreathed  effect  contradicts  absolutely  the 
supporting  function  that  the  best  capitals 
express.  But  however  many  flaws  we  may  pick 
with  details  of  line,  no  fault  can  be  found  with 
this  capital  as  an  interesting  and  sincere  inter- 
pretation of  the  ever  fascinating,  ever  delight- 
ful outside  world. 

French  Gothic  ornament  is  often  as  beauti- 
fully structural  as  the  English  is  beautifully 
naturalistic.  This  is  particularly  true  of  figure 
sculpture,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  most  success- 
ful architectural  sculpture  in  the  world,  next  to 
the  Greek.  French  Gothic  decorative  figures 
are  always  strong,  upright,  structural,  and  al- 
ways, too,  the  best  are  beautiful  by  themselves, 
with  well  modelled  heads  and  masterly  drapery. 
Conventionalization  in  these  figures  never  goes 
so  far  as  to  make  them  bad  sculpture  although 
good  architecture?  like  all  the  best  ornament, 
they  are  both  good  in  themselves  and  in  their 
place.* 

The  development  of  Kenaissance  ornament  is 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


CATHEDRAL,    CHARTRES,   FRANCE 
(TRANSEPT  porch) 

Gothic  architectural  sculpture  at  its  best.     The  figures  are  full  of  structural 
feeling,  but  beautiful  in  themselves  as  well.     See  page  178. 


DECOBATIVE  MATERIAL  179 

the  story  of  the  gradual  struggle  of  classical 
ideas,  the  classical  feeling  for  line  and  relief,  to 
a  new  ascendancy.  But  the  Gothic  influence 
never  completely  died.  Kenaissance  ornament, 
particularly  in  France  and  England,  was  never 
completely  like  the  ornament  of  Greece  and 


French  Gothic  Capitals. 

Fig.  17.    Notice  the  strong  structural  vertical  feel- 
ing and  contrast  with  Figure  16. 

Rome,  because  the  Middle  Ages  had  left  an  in- 
delible influence  upon  men's  minds.  There  is 
no  classic  prototype  for  the  heavy  garlands  of 
very  real  fruit  and  flowers  that  the  English  ar- 
chitects of  the  Eighteenth  Century  loved  so 
dearly.  There  is  certainly  no  classic  prototype 
for  the  " strap' '  ornament  and  the  carved 
shields  and  curved  cartouches  so  popular  in 


180     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

France  at  the  same  time.  It  was  only  in  periods 
of  frank  artistic  decadence  that  rigid  copying 
was  indulged  in;  the  dreary  period  of  the 
Roman  and  Greek  revivals  of  the  Eighteenth 
and  early  Nineteenth  Centuries  and  the  formal 
classicism  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  in  Italy. 
Then,  too,  the  whole  development  of  Renais- 
sance art  was  influenced  by  the  great  individual- 
ism of  the  times,  the  new  humanism.  Particu- 
larly in  Italy,  each  artist  had  his  differing  style ; 
the  history  of  the  art  is  the  history  of  successive 
men  of  genius ;  from  the  time  when  Brunelleschi 
reared  the  Pazzi  Chapel,  and  Desiderio  da  Set- 
tignano  and  Mino  da  Fiesole  put  up  their  lovely 
tombs  and  altar  pieces,,  to  the  time  when  Michel- 
angelo, by  the  very  force  of  his  misunderstood 
tremendousness,  ushered  in  all  the  good  and  bad 
of  the  Baroque,  until  all  Italian  art  thundered 
in  stucco  splendour  and  plaster  profundity  to 
its  wild  and  riotous  decay. 

Of  post-Renaissance  ornament,  there  are 
three  or  four  influences  it  may  be  necessary  to 
mention.  First,  there  are  the  French  "pe- 
riods," known  by  the  names  of  the  reigning 
kings,  Louis  Quatorze,  Quinze,  Seize,  and  Em- 
pire, and  the  corresponding  trends  in  the  orna- 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  181 

ment  of  other  countries.  In  them,  for  the  first 
time,  the  artist  seems  to  consciously  seek  his 
ends  in  an  abstract  way,  unrelated  to  the  past. 
In  them,  for  the  first  time,  the  artist  seems  self- 
conscious  ;  and  though  there  is  a  loss  of  naive 
charm,  there  is  also  a  corresponding  gain  in 
abstract  skill. 

There  is  system  in  these  periods,  too.  They 
are  illustrative  of  the  continual  conflict  of  two 
contrasting  ideals,  the  restrained  and  "  classic,." 
and  the  free,  unrestrained  and  often  erratic  "ro- 
mantic." In  the  so-called  Louis  Quatorze  and 
Louis  Quinze  styles,  although  exteriors,  are  se- 
verely classic,  the  lighter,  freer  style  had  full 
sway  in  interior  design,  resulting  in  that  com- 
bination of  sweeping,  graceful  curves,  and  gilt 
and  white  and  light  colours  that  all  of  us  know 
too  well;  but  too  often  know  only  from  out  of 
place  and  misunderstood  modern  caricatures. 
Could  we  see  a  real  interior  of  the  style  at  its 
best,  furnished  in  perfect  tone,  and  peopled 
with  the  joyous  costumes  of  the  day,  we 
should  appreciate  more  its  strength,  its  grace, 
its  wonderful  grasp  of  abstract  line,  the  perfec- 
tion of  its  curves.  Later,  there  came  the  in- 
evitable reaction  to  the  restraint  of  Louis  Seize, 


182    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

and  the  Adam  brothers,  and  then  to  the  severity 
of  the  Empire — periods,  losing  more  and  more 
the  talent  for  ornament  in  itself  and  for  itself. 
This  tendency  developed  finally  into  the  long 
and  dreary  monotony  of  the  revivals,  from 
which  we  have  scarce  yet  emerged. 

Even  more  important  for  us  is  the  so-called 
1 i  Art  Nouveau, "  u  Secession ' 9  art,  or  whatever 
you  may  call  it.  This  is  a  development  of  the 
self -consciousness  of  the  artist  to  the  point  of 
morbidity.  The  artist  is  so  conscious  of  his 
aims,  his  theories,  his  ego,  that  he  is  scornful 
of  the  past ;  so  proud  of  his  own  nationalism  or 
his  own  superior  culture,  that  he  deems  it  more 
than  sufficient  to  fill  all  the  demands  of  art. 
Though  he  pretend  to  appreciate  the  art  of  the 
past,  his  own  vanity,  or  his  nationalistic  afflatus 
forces  him  to  neglect  its  opportunities  for  this 
modern  age.  Originality  is  his  god,  not  beauty ; 
and  he  must  forget  the  language  the  past  has 
furnished  him  to  forge  a  new  language  all  his 
own. 

And  yet,  it  must  not  be  thought  that  there  is 
no  praise  due  the  many  thinking  artists  who  are 
labouring  in  this  new  way,  or  the  ideals  of  sin- 
cerity and  true  expression  which  they  uphold. 


DECORATIVE  MATERIAL  183 

To  bring  about  any  reform  extremists  are  neces- 
sary: perhaps  even  the  Eeign  of  Terror  was 
necessary  to  the  future  health  of  the  French 
nation.  So,  in ' '  Art  Nouveau, ' '  we  must  see  not 
a  new  style  that  is  the  artistic  salvation  of  the 
world,  but  rather  a  protest  against  the  slavish 
imitation  of  the  past,  a  protest  movement  that 
will  act  and  react  with  the  innate  conservatism 
of  the  human  crowd,  to  produce  at  last  an  art 
renaissance  that  shall  be  truly  as  great  as  that 
of  Athens,  or  of  Rome,  or  of  Florence,  grateful 
and  reverent  towards  the  past,  but  keenly  alive 
to  the  present,  and  with  its  mind  ever  dream- 
ing of  the  future,  using  the  past  as  a  means  to 
a  beautiful  present  and  a  more  glorious  future. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   CRITICISM   OF   ORNAMENT 

There  has  been  so  much  discussion  of  orna- 
ment, and  it  is  such  an  important  part  of  the 
art  of  architecture,  that  it  will  be  worth  while 
to  devote  a  little  more  time  to  it,  and  to 
try  to  get  at  the  question  of  what  is  good  and 
what  is  bad  in  any  ornament,  whatever  the  style 
or  subject.  Ornament  can  be  judged  in  two 
ways ;  first  as  a  thing  in  itself,  and  secondly,  in 
relation  to  the  building  which  it  adorns. 

Ornament  as  a  thing  by  itself  should  be  beau- 
tiful. This  should  be  self-evident;  for  orna- 
ment is  by  its  very  interest  the  element  of  a 
building  on  which  the  eye  dwells  longest,  and 
on  which  its  attention  becomes  at  last  fixed.  In 
a  way,  ornament  is,  therefore,  a  sort  of  climax. 
At  a  distance  the  whole  of  a  building  is  seen  as 
a  mass,  even  a  silhouette ;  as  one  approaches,  in- 
teresting details  begin  to  show  themselves; 
doors,  windows,  columns ;  but  when  one  is  very 
close  to  a  large  building,  even  these  may  be  over- 

184 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT       185 

looked,  and  the  eye  dwells  on  the  swelling  curve 
of  a  base  mould,  or  a  beautiful  bas-relief  over  a 
window,  or  the  soft  texture  of  varied  brick. 
And  it  is  an  interesting  fact  that  the  larger  the 
building  the  more  this  is  true ;  the  more  the  ef- 
fect of  the  thing  as  a  whole  is  lost  on  a  close 
view,  and,  therefore,  the  more  the  eye  seeks  in 
what  it  can  see  for  interesting  ornament.  This 
explains  why  it  is  that  a  small  house  can  be 
beautiful  with  no  ornament  at  all;  whereas  a 
large  building  equally  barren  of  relief  would 
be  inexcusably  dull. 

Ornament,  therefore,  from  its  very  function 
to  beautify  must  be  beautiful,  and  it  must  con- 
sequently follow  all  the  demands  of  beauty 
which  have  been  already  enumerated,  unity,  bal- 
ance, rhythm,  climax,  grace,  harmony,  and  so 
forth.  The  criticism  of  ornament  as  an  entity 
by  itself  consists,  then,  of  the  application  to  the 
ornament  of  these  requirements.  But  that  is 
not  all.  The  demands  enumerated  in  Chapter 
II  are  demands  of  pure  form,  and  most  orna- 
ment is  more  than  this.  Architecture  is  pure 
form  based  on  good  structural  sense,  and  orna- 
ment is  pure  form  based  on  a  just  and  sincere 
spirit,  for  with  ornament,  and  the  idea  of  rep- 


186    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

resentation,  there  has  entered  a  new  element. 
This  element  is  the  direct  appeal  of  the  repre- 
sentation to  our  emotions ;  that  is,  the  emotional 
effect  of  that  complex  of  emotions,  sensations, 
memories,  and  associations,  that  the  forceful 
representation  of  anything,  beautiful  or  unbeau- 
tiful,  produces  in  us. 

Of  course  architecture,  too,  has  a  certain 
amount  of  this  element;  a  Gothic  church  pro- 
duces a  very  definite,  direct  emotional  effect  in 
us;  so  may  a  building  in  any  of  the  styles. 
In  a  Doric  column  we  see  Athens,  before  a 
Corinthian  colonnade  we  are  in  Rome,  in  a 
Louis  XIV  room  there  rises  before  us  the  pic- 
ture of  that  gorgeous  silk-clad  court.  But  this 
is  a  delight  more  intellectual  and  more  senti- 
mental than  the  direct  emotion  at  good  orna- 
ment; it  requires  a  mind  well  trained,  keenly 
alert,  stocked  with  such  a  store  of  the  past  as 
only  education  can  give. 

Ornament  is  more  democratic ;  a  good  repre- 
sentation of  their  brother  men  strikes  a  chord 
and  sets  it  thrilling  in  those  to  whom  Athens  is 
unknown,  and  Rome  only  a  vague  word.  It  fol- 
lows, then,  that  the  subject  represented  is  im- 
portant to  the  effect  of  good  ornament,  and 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        187 

more  important  than  most  of  our  present-day 
architects  realize.  In  the  foregoing  chapter 
there  has  already  been  discussed  one  aspect  of 
this  question,  the  matter  of  the  material  on 
which  the  designer  may  draw.  But  there 
are  other  aspects  besides  this  on  which  it  is 
necessary  to  make  our  minds  clear,  and  it  is 
these  with  which  this  chapter  must  deal.  Chap- 
ter V  was  concerned  with  material ;  this  chap- 
ter will  deal  with  artistic  theory. 

Eepresentational  ornament,  whatever  the  sub- 
ject, must  first  of  all  be  suitable.  It  must  have 
a  subject  suitable  to  the  material  out  of  which 
it  is  made,  suitable  to  the  medium  with  which 
it  is  made,  and  suitable  for  its  place  on  the  build- 
ing and  to  the  building's  purpose. 

Ornament  must  have  a  subject  suitable  to  its 
material.  This  is  not  such  a  strange  fact  as  it 
may  at  first  seem.  Consider  for  a  moment  the 
qualities  of  the  materials,  granite  and  bronze. 
Granite  is  hard  to  cut,  heavy,  with  a  coarse  and 
interesting  texture.  Bronze  is  metal  poured 
molten  into  a  mould  which  is  formed  from  a 
model  prepared  probably  in  clay,  soft,  easily 
modelled,  capable  of  the  most  delicate  varia- 
tions and  modulations  of  surface.    Bronze  has, 


188    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

in  addition,  a  glossy,  shiny  surface  when  it  is 
finished,  that  reflects  a  changing  light  from 
every  slightest  curve.  Is  it  strange  that  what 
would  be  a  fit  subject  for  one  material  should 
be  ridiculous  in  the  other? 

True,  human  figures  could  be  carved  in  each, 
but  not  figures  dressed  alike  or  doing  the  same 
thing.  The  granite  figure  should  be  a  tremend- 
ous Colossus,  with  simple  angular  features,  and 
draperies  falling  in  simple,  severe  lines.  It 
should  be  posed  strong  and  upright,  or  seated 
with  enormous  dignity  and  repose,  with  an  age- 
long quality  in  the  posture  like  the  age-long 
character  of  the  material.  The  bronze  figure 
may  be  dressed  in  intricate  folds,  or  be  nude ;  it 
may  dart  hither  and  thither  at  the  artist's 
fancy,  it  may  be  in  a  posture  of  swift  motion, 
and  yet  there  is  something  in  the  ductile  quality 
of  the  material  that  seems  perfectly  appro- 
priate. 

Or  consider  the  effect  of  different  plants  fash- 
ioned in  different  materials.  For  instance,  the 
English  loved  to  decorate  their  great  iron  gates 
with  a  conventionalized  vine,  with  delicate, 
twisting  lines,  thin  curling  leaves,  tiny  tendrils, 
curving   in   spirals.      Can   this   be   imagined 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        189 

in  granite  ?  The  very  grain  of  the  stone  would 
be  coarser  than  the  tendrils ;  in  the  play  of  light 
over  its  granular,  multi-coloured  surface  the 
delicate  shadows  would  be  lost,  and  the  whole 
seem  weak  and  pointless.  A  branch  of  white 
oak,  on  the  other  hand,  with  its  strong  leaves, 
and  its  hard,  round  acorns,  could  be  carved  in 
granite  more  effectively  than  cast  or  wrought  in 
metal. 

It  is  a  universal  rule,  in  fact,  that  the  harder 
and  more  durable  the  material  of  the  ornament, 
the  severer  and  more  dignified  must  be  the  ob- 
ject represented.  And,  in  general,  the  order 
from  the  hardest  and  most  durable  to  the  soft- 
est and  most  cheerful  seems  to  run  in  some  such 
fashion  as  this :  First,  granite,  suitable  for  se- 
vere, somewhat  conventionalized  figures,  and 
plants  with  hard,  strongly  marked  lines ;  next, 
marble,  though  here  there  is  a  tremendous  va- 
riety of  textures  and  surfaces,  suitable  to  a 
great  number  of  differing  subjects.  It  must, 
however,  be  noted  that  any  marble  with  strongly 
marked  colour  and  veining  is  even  less  fitted  for 
delicate  ornament  than  granite.  Next,  lime- 
stone, the  ordinary  white  stone  of  our  Ameri- 
can buildings.    This  is,  like  marble,  a  very  va- 


100    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

riable  material,  and  is  midway  in  the  scale,  so 
that  almost  any  well  designed  ornament  seems 
suitable.  Next,  Caen  stone,  very  soft  and  eas- 
ily cut,  suitable,  therefore,  for  all  sorts  of  nat- 
uralistic ornament.  Then  wood,  again  a  rich 
and  varied  material,  especially  suitable  for  sub- 
jects in  low  relief,  but  also,  if  the  subject  is 
naturalistic,  for  high  relief.  And  last,  the  met- 
als, in  which  a  freedom  of  line  and  subject,  a 
riotous  play  of  fancy,  are  permitted  such  as  no 
other  material  allows. 

Of  course,  this  list  is  approximate  only;  but 
it  is  significant,  and  it  is  based  on  truth.  And 
there  are  so  many  cases  in  our  modern  work 
where  the  different  qualities  of  different  mate- 
rials is  forgotten,  that  it  seems  necessary  to  in- 
clude it.  We  are  always  tempted  to  try  to  do 
two  things  at  once ;  love  for  rich  materials  and 
rich  ornament  often  leads  us  to  forget  the  sim- 
ple demands  of  good  design.  Let  the  reader 
take  this  to  heart,  and  look  at  the  ornament 
around  him  with  this  in  mind ;  and  the  sense  of 
the  necessary  fitness  of  ornament  and  material 
in  good  architecture  will  soon  make  itself  felt. 

Ornament  must  be  suitable  to  the  medium 
in  which  it  is  executed.    This  is  a  simpler  and 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        191 

more  obvious  truth  than  the  foregoing ;  it  needs 
little  explanation.  It  is  absurd  that  painted 
ornament,  with  all  the  richness  of  colour  as  its 
field,  should  have  the  same  kind  of  subjects  as 
carved  ornament;  though  this  has  been  done 
times  enough.  The  artists  of  the  Baroque  pe- 
riod were  particularly  to  blame ;  they  revelled  in 
monotonous  paintings  of  carved  garlands  and 
reliefs,  and  in  sculpture  full  of  strained  and  pic- 
turesque motion,  and  the  result,  no  matter  how 
skilfully  done,  is  almost  always  unsatisfactory. 
We  are  less  sinners  than  they,  but  we  must  al- 
ways be  on  our  guard. 

Last  of  all,  the  subject  of  ornament  must  be 
appropriate  to  the  purposes  of  the  building 
which  it  decorates.  And  here  again  we  are  lack- 
ing. There  seems  a  spiritual  blindness  about  us, 
to  carve  exactly  the  same  things  on  our 
churches  as  we  do  on  our  theatres.  Think  of 
the  added  life  and  zest  our  architecture  would 
have  if  always  the  modeller  and  architect  had 
fixed  ineradicably  in  their  minds  the  purpose  of 
the  building  whose  ornament  they  were  design- 
ing. It  may  be  right  to  carve  or  paint  plant 
forms  almost  anywhere;  the  world  of  green 
nature  seems  always  at  home ;  but  the  moment 


192    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  AKCHITECTURE 

the  human  element  enters  in,  then  we  nmst  be 
careful ;  and  this  human  element  ought  to  enter 
in  a  great  deal  more  than  it  does.  Surely  we  are 
missing  something  in  our  architecture  when  we 
decorate  the  frieze  of  villa,  courthouse,  theatre, 
and  church  with  the  skulls  and  sacrificial  rib- 
bons of  the  Roman  temple.  If  we  could  only 
more  use  architecturally  the  figures  our  sculp- 
tors are  doing  so  well!  There  is  a  continually 
growing  excellence  in  our  American  sculpture, 
but  the  architects — and  their  clients,  too,  for  it 
is  their  wishes  that  the  architects  must  mate- 
rialize— seem  lagging  in  their  appreciation  of 
the  value  of  this  sculpture  and  these  sculptors 
to  them. 

In  Arcadia,  in  that  perfect  society  where  ar- 
chitect, painter  and  sculptor  collaborate  in 
every  building,  things  will  be  vastly  different. 
All  the  theatres  there,  not  merely  one  or  two, 
will  be  decorated  with  reliefs  and  unusual  paint- 
ings typifying,  perhaps,  the  great  plays  of  the 
world's  literature,  perhaps  merely  the  exuber- 
ance of  the  youth-giving  joy  that  produced  them. 
All  the  churches  will  have  written  large  upon 
them  in  frieze  and  group  and  picture  the  glory 
of  the  saints  and  martyrs  and  prophets  and 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        193 

apostles  of  all  the  ages,  and  the  constant  strug- 
gle between  the  forces  of  light  and  happiness 
and  the  forces  of  greed  and  decadence.  And  the 
schools — in  England  they  are  making  more 
of  a  beginning  at  school  decoration  than  we ;  a 
glimpse  into  one  of  their  new  schools  with  its 
class  rooms  decorated  with  soft  mural  paint- 
ings is  a  revelation.  But  in  Arcadia  even  that 
beginning  will  seem  crude;  the  school  fronts 
will  be  gay  with  friezes  of  happy  children,  like 
those  glad  children  that  sing  everlastingly  from 
the  famous  Cantoria  of  Luca  della  Robbia.*  The 
corridors  will  be  bright  with  paintings  of  all 
those  trades  and  professions  to  which  the  pupils 
aspire ;  and  in  the  assembly  hall  there  will  be  a 
great  glorification  of  Life.  Even  the  houses  in 
Arcadia  will  reveal  something  of  the  character 
of  their  owner  from  the  decorative  subjects 
which  he  suggests  that  his  architect  embody  in 
the  design. 

Let  us  hope  that  this  unrealizable  Arcadian 
ideal  will  be  striven  after  here  and  now.  It  is 
not  so  impracticable  as  it  seems;  one  of  the 
great  New  York  High  Schools  is  being  little  by 
little  decorated  by  a  number  of  artists  in  some 
such  similar  way.    Our  ancestors  have  seen  and 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  194. 


194    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

appreciated  the  value  of  living,  relevant  orna- 
ment, and  produced  it;  there  is  no  inability  in 
us;  our  sculptors  have  the  skill,  our  architects 
are  awaiting  the  chance.  There  is  only  one  thing 
lacking — the  desire;  for  one  must  remember 
that  what  the  mass  of  people  want,  that  they 
get.  It  is  only  because  the  person  who  is  build- 
ing does  not  know  what  he  wants  that  the  archi- 
tect is  usually  compelled  to  exert  such  complete 
sway  over  the  building.  Let  us  hope,  then,  that 
the  day  may  come  when  the  great  mass  of  peo- 
ple will  come  to  appreciate  the  value  of  this  live, 
human  ornament,  and  demand  it;  for  then  our 
American  architecture  will  blossom  into  new 
beauty,  and  our  common  life  contain  a  new  ele- 
ment of  richness  and  joy. 

It  is  even  more  important  that  the  treatment 
of  the  ornament  be  entirely  suitable  to  its  ma- 
terial, medium,  and  purpose,  than  that  the  sub- 
ject be  suitable.  For  treatment,  that  is,  the 
handling  of  the  subject,  is  a  technical  matter ;  it 
is  entirely  dependent  upon  the  material  and 
medium,  and  yet  it  can  make  or  mar  ornament. 
It  is,  however,  less  interesting  than  the  subject 
of  ornament,  for  while  the  subject  deals  with 
the  spirit  and  the  soul,  treatment  deals  merely 


*z 

3 

< 

0" 

H 

oc 

.£ 

(/) 

W 

«J 

U 

8 

S5 

.5 

w 

3 

•u 

o 

c 

J 

rt 

E 

4> 

> 

~-  PC 

j 

Oj  Cn 

3 

« 

"^   41 

Q 
H 

ad 

< 

0)  «i 

J3  S 

■^cc 

u 

o 

a 

pa 

Sii 

H 

55 

of  -u 

>< 

SI 

o  a 

3 

«g 

H 

cj  « 

2 

=3  > 
13   4) 

04 

*o^ 

O 

d  O 

fa 

o_ 

3  cS 

- 

J  C 

< 

>J 

s 

^C 

O 

o>"  S 

M 

4)   > 

55 

c§ 

-< 

boo 

u 

tCv^ 

cc 

5  b 

E? 

5* 

•a-^ 

£> 

5^ 

ft-c 

•5  8 

S* 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        195 

with  the  externalizing  of  that  soul.  It  is,  there- 
fore, in  this  matter  of  treatment  that  we  must 
most  diligently  study  the  past;  it  is  for  this 
reason  that  in  the  historical  summary  in  the 
last  chapter  the  treatment  was  in  every  case  em- 
phasized to  such  an  extent. 

The  most  salient  fault  of  the  treatment  of  the 
ornament  of  present-day  America  is  a  fault  that 
is  not  confined  to  our  incompetent  architects; 
it  is  universal.  Indeed,  it  is  often  in  the  work 
of  the  lesser  known  men,  even  in  some  of  our 
purely  commercial  architecture,  that  one  sees 
the  signs  of  a  recognition  of  this  fault,  and  an 
attempt  towards  something  better.  This  fault 
is  the  treatment  of  ornament  in  terra  cotta. 

It  is  a  great  misfortune  that  terra  cotta  can 
be  manufactured  in  so  close  an  imitation  of 
stone.  It  has  warped  our  whole  attitude  to- 
wards it,  and  bred  in  too  many  of  us  an  insid- 
ious artistic  insincerity.  All  over  the  country 
terra  cotta  is  being  used  to  simulate  the  more 
valuable  material;  and  every  attempt  is  made 
by  even  our  best  architects  to  make  this  simu- 
lation as  exact  as  possible,  in  colour  and  in  text- 
ure. Ornament  in  terra  cotta  so  considered  is 
treated  absolutely  like  cut  stone  ornament.    In- 


196    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

deed,  a  building  faced  with  this  sort  of  terra 
cotta  seems  a  deliberate  attempt  to  hoax  the 
public  into  believing  that  it  is  faced  entirely 
with  cut  stone. 

We  cannot  but  condemn  this  practice.  Is  it 
a  sign  of  some  innate  insincerity  in  our  minds 
that  we  have  done  it  so  much?  Not  altogether, 
it  is  to  be  hoped;  it  is  rather  a  sign  that  our 
architects  have  thought  so  long  in  terms  of  cut 
stone,  under  present  conditions  the  costliest  and 
most  durable  building  material  there  is,  that  it 
is  hard  for  them  to  think  in  terms  of  another 
material  less  durable  and  less  costly.  And  yet 
terra  cotta  has  enormous  possibilities  of  its  own. 
Here  are  a  few  of  the  qualities  that  terra  cotta 
possesses  which  are  unique:  First,  it  is  not 
carved,  but  cast  in  moulds  from  models ;  so  that 
from  one  model  there  can  be  made  a  very  large 
number  of  terra  cotta  blocks.  This  at  once  sug- 
gests repeated  ornament  of  some  complex  kind ; 
some  fine  delicate  pattern  over  each  block  that 
will  give  to  the  building  a  distinct  texture,  and 
differentiate  it  from  a  stone  building.  Second, 
since  terra  cotta  ornament  is  not  carved,  but 
moulded  and  cast,  it  becomes  possible  to  treat 
this  ornament  in  a  much  freer  way  than  would 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        197 

be  possible  in  stone.  We  can  vary  the  relief 
endlessly,  using  deep  holes  of  shadow  and  bold 
projecting  masses  of  high  light,  or  making  the 
ornament  so  delicate  as  to  almost  disappear, 
with  a  cheerful  f orgetfulness  of  the  more  string- 
ent demands  of  stone  work.  And  thirdly,  as 
terra  cotta  has  to  be  baked,  it  can  be  glazed  and 
coloured  at  little  extra  cost.  What  this  fact  may 
mean  to  us  fifty  years  from  now  it  would  be  idle 
to  guess ;  the  only  surprise  is  that  it  has  meant 
so  little  to  us  up  to  the  present  time.  This  is  the 
more  surprising  since  in  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance,  which  all  of  our  architects  study  so  care- 
fully, there  was  a  virile  school  of  decorators  in 
coloured  terra  cotta.  Luca  della  Eobbia,  Andrea 
della  Robbia ;  these  are  magic  names  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  early  flowering  of  the  Renaissance 
in  the  north  of  Italy,  names  of  men  whose  fame 
and  wares  travelled  to  France  and  far  England ; 
yet  for  all  one  can  see  of  the  effect  of  their  lives 
and  works  in  the  buildings  around,  they  might 
never  have  lived.  Here  and  there,  it  is  true,  an 
architect  has  the  temerity  to  use  bits  of  coloured 
terra  cotta  on  a  building,  here  and  there  is  a 
faience  wainscot  or  fountain;  but  the  endless 
possibilities  that  lie  in  a  free,  sincere  treatment 


198    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

of  ornament  in  coloured  or  glazed  terra  cotta 
have  been  strangely  neglected.  Let  us  hope  this 
neglect  will  soon  come  to  an  end ;  that  colour  and 
terra  cotta  will  eventually  gain  together  their 
true  place  in  our  modern  American  architecture, 
and  the  day  of  imitation  stones,  from  the  cast- 
iron  of  1856  to  the  cast  terra  cotta  of  1916,  will 
sink  to  an  unregretted  end. 

There  is  one  great  class  of  ornament  that  it  is 
needful  to  mention  in  any  discussion  of  the  criti- 
cism of  ornament,  because  probably  more  has 
been  written  with  regard  to  its  merits  and  de- 
merits than  with  regard  to  those  of  any  other 
class.  This  class  consists  in  the  ornament  that 
is  formed  by  the  use  of  elements  originally 
structural  necessities  for  a'  purely  decorative 
purpose.  Myriad  examples  will  occur  to  one  im- 
mediately ;  columns,  niches,  gables,  domes — like 
the  exterior  shells  of  the  Renaissance  domes, 
such  as  St.  Paul's  in  London — arches,  and  the 
like.  The  column  and  the  forms  closely  related 
to  it,  the  pilaster  and  engaged  column  are,  per- 
haps, the  most  obvious.  Originally,  the  column 
was  a  purely  structural  member,  used  as  a  sup- 
port, where  a  support  was  necessary.  Later, 
columns  and  colonnades  were  used  merely  deco- 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  OENAMENT        199 

ratively,  because  there  is  nothing  that  can  take 
the  place  of  the  restful  rhythm  and  strong  grace 
of  the  colonnade.  Of  course,  in  some  places  the 
colonnade  has  a  true  function  as  a  real  porch; 
as  in  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  which  has  been 
so  often  cited  before.  But  even  in  this  case 
there  is  more  colonnade  than  the  actual  de- 
mands would  require;  the  decorative  reason 
for  the  colonnade  is  really  more  important  than 
the  structural  reason.  And  when  we  get  ex- 
amples of  a  colonnade  like  that  of  the  Louvre 
or  the  State  Education  Building  in  Albany,  the 
porch  idea  is  practically  non-existent,  and  the 
colonnade  is  frankly  decorative;  and  it  is  as 
decoration  wholly  that  it  must  be  judged. 

The  Eomans  began  another  decorative  use  of 
the  column.  They  used  engaged  columns,  that 
is,  columns  partly  built  into  a  wall,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  arches.  This  combination  is  seen  espe- 
cially in  their  theatres  and  amphitheatres  like 
the  Colosseum,*  but  it  was  used  on  other  build- 
ings as  well ;  on  the  Basilicas,  for  instance,  and 
the  Tabularium,  the  Roman  governmental  build- 
ing, which  rose  high  above  the  Forum  on  the 
Capitoline  Hill.  This  combination  of  arch  and 
column  or  pilaster  was  extensively  used  all 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  22. 


200    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

through  the  Eenaissance  period;  naves  of 
churches,  palace  fronts,  cloisters,  all  were 
treated  with  it  from  time  to  time ;  the  interior 
of  St.  Peter's*  is  a  great  example,  as  is  the 
Vendramini  Palace.t  During  the  Eenaissance 
the  Italians  began  to  use  columns  and  pilasters 
— "orders"  as  they  are  called,  in  still  another 
way,  closely  allied;  that  is,  they  decorated  a 
plain,  unbroken  wall  with  engaged  columns  or 
pilasters,  one,  two,  or  three  stories  high. 

There  has  been  a  world  of  abuse  flung  at  this 
decorative  use  of  the  "orders."  Critic  after 
critic  has  assailed  it  as  non-structural,  insin- 
cere ;  critic  after  critic  has  pointed  out  that  these 
applied  "orders"  contradict  the  whole  feeling 
of  the  wall  and  has  claimed  that  they  are  a  base 
practice  of  a  decadent  and  hypocritical  civiliza- 
tion which  has  poisoned  our  architectural  taste, 
and  directed  us  away  from  the  true  virtues  ex- 
emplified in  the  glorious  Gothic. 

This  charge,  so  often  repeated,  has  been  as  a 
rule  defied  consistently  by  the  architects,  who 
continue  to  use  these  criticised  methods  of  deco- 
ration with  great  frequency.  It  seems  neces- 
sary, therefore,  to  look  somewhat  closely  into 

*  See  Frontispiece. 

f  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  46. 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        201 

the  merits  of  this  criticism,  and  see  what  are 
the  real  facts  of  the  controversy. 

The  difference  seems  to  lie  in  the  point  of 
view.  If  we  are  willing  to  accept  the  point  of 
view  of  these  critics,  we  arrive  inevitably  at 
their  conclusions;  similarly,  if  we  accept  the 
architect's  point  of  view,  we  shall  continue  to 
use  these  "insincere"  decorations.  The  crux 
of  the  matter  seems  to  be  that  the  critics,  who 
have  so  denounced  this  decorative  use  of  struc- 
tural members,  have  too  much  intellectualized 
the  art  of  architecture.  They  have  deified  the 
virtue  of  sincerity,  and  applied  it  with  a  strict- 
ness entirely  unwarranted.  It  is  true  that  col- 
umns are  in  essence  supporting  members;  and 
that  to  use  them  as  decorations  is  to  forget  this 
original  function.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
column  is  a  very  beautiful  object  in  itself,  aside 
from  its  function  as  a  support.  Its  strong,  ver- 
tical lines,  with  its  decorated  cap  and  base  are 
an  architectural  note  that  is  unique,  that  can  be 
obtained  in  no  other  way.  Why,  then,  if  the 
purpose  of  architecture  is  to  create  beautiful 
buildings,  should  the  architect  not  use  this 
uniquely  beautiful  motive,  solely  because  of  its 
beauty? 


202    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  one  of  the  most 
criticised  uses  of  the  orders ;  their  combination 
with  the  arch,  as  in  the  Colosseum.  The  beau- 
tiful rhythm  of  this  building  has  already  been 
analyzed  ;*  and  nothing  that  critics  can  say  can 
destroy  that.  The  critics'  condemnation  is  a 
theory;  the  wonderful,  stately  rhythm  of  the 
building  is  a  reality.  Moreover,  although  the 
arches  really  do  the  supporting  of  the  wall,  and 
although  the  columns  are  a  mere  decoration, 
notice  how  the  vertical  lines  of  the  columns  ex- 
press support,  how  they  seem  to  make  still 
stronger  the  strength  of  the  arcaded  wall.  Simi- 
larly, the  deep  shadowed  entablatures  over  the 
columns  express  the  story  heights,  and  tie  the 
whole  enormous  circuit  of  columns  and  arches 
together.  Now  architecture  is  an  art  that  ap- 
peals to  the  sight  first  and  foremost ;  and  it  is, 
therefore,  the  things  one  sees,  and  their  expres- 
sions, that  are  in  fact  more  aesthetically  real 
than  the  actual  construction  of  the  building. 
Therefore,  it  seems  logical  to  conclude  that 
whatever  has  an  expression  proper  to  its  posi- 
tion is  good  architecture,  provided  it  is  beauti- 
ful ;  and  consequently,  the  columns  and  entabla- 
tures of  the  Colosseum  are  good  architecture, 

*  See  page  56. 


|V        o 


<  8 

a  "5 

3  -fa 

Z  g 

«  a 

>  ~ 

<:  or 


6" 

Is 

go. 

S  <° 

•§(8 


(/l    CO 

c  > 

o  ° 

£E 

■s-g 

0)  <u 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        203 

because  in  effect  and  expression  they  merely  ac- 
centuate the  actual  supporting  of  the  piers, 
and  the  actual  division  into  stories. 

A  somewhat  similar  method  must  be  em- 
ployed in  judging  the  use  of  colonnades.  One 
must  use  common  sense;  and  where  common 
sense  tells  one  that  the  colonnade  is  not  an  ac- 
tual contradiction  of  or  detriment  to  the  needs 
of  the  building,  and  his  aesthetic  sense  tells  him 
it  is  pleasing  as  well,  he  may  accept  it  as  good 
architecture.  The  colonnade  of  the  Louvre  in 
Paris  is  such  an  example.  The  majestic  ranks 
of  coupled  columns  set  on  the  strong  basement, 
and  broken  just  sufficiently  by  the  corner  pavil- 
lions  and  the  central  pediment,  are  manifestly 
pleasing;  strong  and  graceful,  this  colonnade 
forms  a  fitting  ornament  to  the  square  on  which 
it  faces.  Nor  does  it  offend  structurally,  for 
although  it  is  not  a  necessary  porch,  and  al- 
though it  has  little  actual  relation  to  the  build- 
ing behind,  the  spacing  of  the  windows  gives  it 
an  apparent  relation,  and  the  building  itself  is 
not  of  a  character  to  demand  any  marked  struc- 
tural expression.  Equally  satisfactory  is  the 
colonnade  of  the  New  York  Post  Office,  already 
illustrated.*  But  colonnades  can  become  actually 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  202. 


204    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

detrimental.  The  New  York  State  Education 
Building  in  Albany  has  probably  the  largest 
permanent  colonnade  in  this  country ;  it  is  also 
one  of  the  greatest  architectural  monsters  of  the 
last  few  years.  In  the  first  place,  situated  as  it 
is  on  a  comparatively  narrow  avenue  with  a 
steep  slope,  there  is  no  such  opportunity  for 
getting  the  effect  as  a  whole  as  there  is  in  the 
case  of  the  Louvre  colonnade,  and,  therefore,  no 
such  reason  for  sacrificing  the  structure  of  the 
building  to  decorative  effect.  And  the  building 
itself,  a  great  office  and  administration  building, 
would  seem  to  demand  a  treatment  expressive 
of  its  official  and  educational  purpose;  a  pur- 
pose that  would  apparently  indicate  many  win- 
dows, and  floods  of  light  and  air,  and  in  addition 
a  monumental  and  inviting  entrance  to  typify 
the  democracy  of  the  state.  In  the  building  as  it 
exists  the  strong  projection  of  the  colonnade 
throws  a  deep  shadow  over  the  wall  behind,  and 
the  main  entrance  is  marked  only  by  an  insignifi- 
cant flight  of  steps,  so  that  windows  and  en- 
trance alike  are  lost  in  the  dark;  every  possible 
expression  of  the  building's  purpose  concealed; 
and  the  one  thing  prominent  is  a  regiment  of 
enormous  columns,  close  to  the  ground  at  one 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        205 

end,  and  at  the  other  mounted  on  a  high  base- 
ment, because  of  the  slope  of  the  ground.  Here 
the  sacrifice  of  structural  expression  has  been, 
indeed,  too  great,  and  in  the  colonnade  itself, 
with  its  over-ornamented,  crowded  Corinthian- 
esque  capitals,  and  the  heavy,  box-like  entabla- 
tures above,  there  is  no  supreme  touch  of  beauty 
or  dignity  to  compensate.  Here,  then,  orna- 
mental use  of  structural  features  has  gone  too 
far;  here  is  a  building  where  love  of  grandeur 
and  exterior  effect  have  led  to  an  insincerity 
manifestly  mistaken. 

From  this  discussion,  it  would,  therefore,  ap- 
pear that  in  the  criticism  of  the  decorative  use 
of  structural  architectural  members  there  can 
be  both  good  and  bad.  We  must  neither  en- 
tirely condemn  nor  entirely  commend ;  each  ex- 
ample must  be  judged  on  its  own  merits. 
Pierced  Gothic  gables  over  pointed  arches,  with 
no  roof  behind,  colonnades,  engaged  columns  or 
pilasters,  are  not  of  themselves  either  right  or 
wrong.  If  there  is  no  absolute  structural  con- 
tradiction entailed  by  their  use,  if  they  are  not 
an  absolute  obstacle  to  the  proper  use  of  the 
building,  one  may  excuse  them,  and,  if  they  are 
beautiful,  and  fulfill  a  true  aesthetic  function, 


206    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

accept  them  as  good  architecture.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  their  use  seems  to  actually  veil  and 
contradict  the  purpose  of  the  building,  or  to 
fulfill  no  imperative  artistic  demand,  then  one 
is  at  liberty  to  condemn  them  bitterly  for  their 
patent  insincerity,  as  an  architectural  blunder. 
In  these  few  pages  devoted  to  the  decorative 
use  of  structural  members,  the  reader  has  al- 
ready been  brought  face  to  face  with  another 
great  fact  in  the  criticism  of  ornament,  which 
must  be  elaborated  further,  the  relation  of  or- 
nament to  the  building  it  decorates.  In  some 
ways  this  relation  is  a  more  important  fact  in 
the  valuation  of  ornament  than  the  criticism 
of  ornament  by  itself  and  for  itself ;  for  many  a 
great  building  has  some  ornament  that  is  far 
from  perfect,  and  even  the  loveliest  ornament 
cannot  redeem  a  building  if  this  ornament  is 
badly  placed,  or  manifestly  unsuitable.  That 
side  of  the  relation  that  might  be  termed  intel- 
lectual or  even  spiritual,  the  matter  of  suitabil- 
ity of  ornament  to  the  purpose  of  a  building,  for 
instance,  as  regards  both  subject  and  treatment, 
has  already  been  discussed  at  some  length ;  but 
the  other  great  side  of  this  relationship,  that  is, 
the  purely  decorative  side,  needs  some  further 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        207 

study.  In  other  words,  we  must  determine  what 
are  the  relationships  between  a  building  and  its 
ornament  that  produce  good  architecture. 

The  most  obvious  relationship  between  build- 
ing and  ornament  is  probably  that  of  quantity. 
As  one  walks  through  any  city,  that  difference 
between  buildings  may  be  the  first  to  strike  him. 
He  will  notice  that  while  some  buildings  have 
a  great  deal  of  ornament,  others  have  very  lit- 
tle ;  and  he  will,  at  first,  see  no  relationship  be- 
tween the  amount  of  ornament  and  the  merit 
of  the  building.  Some  buildings  almost  covered 
with  ornament  may  be  good,  and  some  with  an 
equal  amount  bad;  some  of  the  plain,  unorna- 
mented  buildings  may  seem  bald  and  uninter- 
esting, and  some  may  be  instinct  with  sturdy 
beauty. 

Indeed,  there  is  a  great  latitude  in  the  amount 
of  ornament  that  is  good  on  a  building.  There 
is  no  general  rule  for  determining  this  amount 
any  more  than  there  is  a  general  rule  for  de- 
termining the  proper  number  of  adjectives  in 
a  novel.  Ornament  is  one  of  the  most  individual 
and  personal  things  about  a  building,  and  in  it 
all  the  personality  of  its  designer  should  enter, 
freely.    There  are  some  men  born  with  Baro- 


208     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

que  minds,  and  some  born  with  the  artistic  re- 
straint of  the  Puritan.  It  does  not  behoove  any- 
one to  call  names ;  to  claim  the  baseness  of  the 
one  nature  or  the  perfection  of  the  other ;  there 
is  beauty  alike  in  abandon  and  in  restraint. 

Nor  does  there  seem  any  inevitable  connec- 
tion between  the  amount  of  ornament  and  the 
purpose  of  the  building.  At  first  thought  it 
might  appear  that  a  theatre  should  be  more  or- 
namented than  a  church,  that  in  general  the 
gayer  and  lighter  the  purpose  of  a  building, 
the  greater  the  amount  of  ornament  that  might 
be  permitted.  But  even  this  simple  statement 
will  not  bear  close  analysis  or  universal  appli- 
cation, for  the  character  of  a  building  is  deter- 
mined by  the  general  scheme  of  its  composition, 
and  the  kind,  not  the  amount,  of  its  decoration. 
Some  architects  are  such  masters  of  the  subtle 
emotional  values  of  pure  shape  and  form,  that 
the  amount  of  ornament  becomes  a  secondary 
matter;  one  architect  can  make  a  gay  theatre 
front  of  one  great  arch  and  one  frieze  of  terra 
cotta,  and  the  next  can  make  a  solemn  and  im- 
pressive church  in  the  style  of  the  most  florid 
Spanish  baroque.  In  the  amount  of  ornament 
suitable  to  a  building  there  is  no  one  rule,  and  in 


DOOR    OF    THE    ESCUELAS    MENOKES,    SALAMANCA,    SPAIN 


This  beautiful  doorway  is  all  the  more  effective  for  being  placed  in  an  un- 
ornamented  stone  wall.  Note  how  the  decoration  fills  the  entire  height  of  the 
wall.     See  pages  07,  212. 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT         209 

the  criticism  of  the  amount  there  is  only  one  cri- 
terion and  that  of  the  vaguest;  the  amount 
should  seem  neither  too  great  nor  too  small. 
Particularly,  the  ornament  must  not  seem  too 
great ;  better  every  time  the  under-ornamented 
than  the  over-ornamented  building.  Restraint 
is  as  valuable  in  ornament  as  in  any  other  field 
of  endeavour,  and  in  any  building  that  gives  the 
impression  that  the  designer  has  put  into  it 
every  scrap  of  ornament  his  brain  could  con- 
ceive, there  is,  inevitably,  a  quality  of  ostenta- 
tion and  vulgarity.  Dignity  lies  always  in  quiet- 
ness, and  quietness  in  restraint. 

This  must  always  be  kept  in  mind  in  judging 
the  amount  of  ornament  on  a  building.  Some 
of  our  architects  seem  to  think  that  by  the  intri- 
cate play  of  light  and  shade  over  surfaces  orna- 
mented with  too  much  luxury  they  will  blind 
the  eyes  to  the  poverty  of  imagination  behind 
the  whole  design.  They  do  not  realize  that  the 
difficulty  of  designing  good  ornament  increases 
directly  with  the  amount,  and  that  the  only  way 
to  keep  a  much-ornamented  building  from  vul- 
garity and  ostentation  is  by  the  most  careful 
consideration  of  the  ornament  itself,  with  re- 
gard to  its  absolute  fitness  and  absolute  unity. 


210    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

If  the  amount,  the  quantity,  of  ornament  is, 
therefore,  comparatively  unimportant  in  judg- 
ing architecture,  the  placing  of  ornament  be- 
comes just  so  much  more  important.  One  rea- 
son over-ornamented  buildings  are  likely  to  be 
ineffective  is  because  the  great  amount  of  the 
ornament  prevents  its  being  placed  in  some  one 
spot  to  give  accent  and  interest.  Upon  the  plac- 
ing of  ornament  depends  a  great  deal  of  its 
merit  or  failure. 

Ornament  should,  first  of  all,  be  placed  where 
the  composition  of  the  masses  of  the  building 
demands  it.  The  value  and  necessity  of  this 
use  of  ornament  in  the  consideration  of  balance 
has  been  pointed  out.*  Ornament  may  be  equally 
necessary  to  give  rhythm,  or  harmony,  or  cli- 
max. This  is  the  reason  buildings  designed  by 
decorators  are  often  singularly  unimpressive; 
the  decorator,  used  to  dealing  in  small  things, 
enthusiastic  in  his  use  of  ornament,  has  had  no 
such  training  as  the  architect  in  grasping  the 
composition  of  large  masses,  and  lacking  this 
grasp,  he  misplaces  his  ornament.  The  true 
architect,  as  soon  as  the  general  scheme  of  his 
building  is  determined,  will  realize  at  a  glance 
where    the    composition    calls    for    ornament, 

♦See  page  55. 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        211 

whether  as  a  cresting  for  the  roof,  or  on  the 
cornice,  or  around  a  porch  or  door  or  bay  win- 
dow; and  the  ornament  placed  where  it  is  in  per- 
fect composition  gains  value  both  by  j.tself  and 
for  the  building. 

In  large  buildings  the  placing  of  the  orna- 
ment becomes  all  the  more  important.  In  lav- 
ish buildings  built  at  great  cost,  in  which  it  is 
desirable  to  emphasize  the  note  of  dignified 
magnificence,  the  ornament  may  be  diffused 
pretty  generally  through  and  over  the  whole 
building,  provided  always  that  it  is  never  so 
placed  as  to  apparently  weaken  the  structure,  or 
diminish  the  sense  of  strong  power.  But  in 
buildings  less  formal,  and  buildings  in  the  de- 
sign of  which  the  element  of  economy  inevitably 
enters  to  a  great  degree — by  far  the  largest 
class  of  buildings  that  surround  us — ornament 
becomes  a  luxury  and  must  be  used,  therefore, 
with  all  the  greater  care  and  restraint  in  order 
to  produce  the  desired  effect  of  richness  and 
beauty  with  the  least  possible  expenditure. 
This  can  only  be  done  by  concentrating  the  or- 
nament in  a  few  places,  and  in  particular  in 
placing  it  around  the  main  entrance  door  and 
around  the  cornice  or  the  roof.    This  method  of 


212     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AKCHITECTURE 

design  by  concentration  was  carried  to  the 
greatest  lengths  in  Spain,  where  we  find  again 
and  again  great  stretches  of  simple  wall,  capped 
either  with  a  bold,  painted  wooden  cornice  or 
an  open  loggia,  and  decorated  with  one  great 
crust  of  intricate  detail  mounting  around  and 
above  the  door.* 

This  is  a  style  of  design  that  is  growing  into 
continually  greater  favour.  The  best  of  the 
Colonial  houses  were  fine  examples  of  it ;  in  them 
the  general  scheme  was  a  simple,  undecorated 
wall  of  brick  or  stone,  with  a  delicate  cornice 
to  crown  it,  and  a  beautifully  detailed  door  in 
the  middle.t  The  ornament  is  absolutely  con- 
centrated, and  the  simple  wall  throws  the  door 
into  a  delightful  prominence. 

This  tradition  of  concentrated  ornament, 
never  entirely  dead  among  us,  has  been 
strengthened  during  the  last  few  years  not  only 
by  study  of  the  Spanish  and  Mohammedan 
buildings  designed  in  this  way,  but  also  because 
of  reasons  of  economy ;  a  teacher  we  have  been 
all  too  slow  to  heed,  for  in  this  case  it  teaches 
a  sane,  artistic  truth.  The  fact  is  that  a  build- 
ing whose  ornament  is  concentrated  at  one  or 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  208. 
f  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


DOOR    OF    THE    GARDNER- WHITE-PINGREE    HOUSE,    SALEM,    MASS. 

The  fact  that  the  doorway  is  the  only  decorated  feature  of  this  house-front 
adds  immensely  to  its  charm.     See  page  212. 


'     THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        213 

two  or  a  few  places  is  more  effective  than  a 
building  in  which  the  same  amount  of  ornament 
is  scattered  over  the  whole  structure. 

The  kind  of  ornament  that  a  building  demands 
has  already  been  considered  and  its  neces- 
sary suitability  for  the  purpose  of  the  building 
and  to  the  material  in  which  it  is  executed.  It 
only  remains,  then,  to  speak  of  the  size  of  the 
ornament.  The  size  of  ornament  is  important, 
because  it  is  this  that  plays  a  large  part  in  one's 
unconscious  realization  of  a  building's  length 
or  height.  In  the  architect's  phrase,  the  size 
of  the  ornament  helps  to  give  " scale"  to  the 
building. 

The  great  front  of  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  is  a 
monumental  example  of  false  scale  set  by  the 
size  of  the  ornamented  parts.*  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  decorated  by  a  range  of  perfectly 
gigantic  pilasters  and  engaged  columns,  each 
as  high  as  a  building  itself.  This  order  is 
capped  by  a  correspondingly  enormous  entabla- 
ture, on  top  of  which  is  a  balustrade  at  least 
seven  feet  high.  All  the  windows  and  niches 
of  the  front  are  of  correspondingly  gargantuan 
proportions,  and  the  statues  are  colossal.  Now 
a  balustrade  is  normally  used  as  a  railing,  and 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  216. 


214    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

as  such  its  height  is  rarely  over  four  and  a  half 
feet,  and  the  eye  is  used  to  windows  and  niches 
of  a  moderate  size,  and  statues  used  as  these  are 
used  only  slightly  larger  than  life.  What  the 
result  of  the  enlargement  of  all  these  forms  on 
the  front  of  St.  Peter's  is  can  be  seen  at  once; 
they  dwarf  it  tremendously,  and  its  enormous 
size  shrinks  to  apparently  modest  dimensions. 
One  cannot  believe  the  balustrade  is  larger  than 
the  usual  balustrade,  that  the  statues  are  over 
twenty  feet  high,  and  consequently  he  can  have 
no  conception  of  the  true  size  of  the  great  build- 
ing in  front  of  him.  The  first  view  of  the  front 
of  St.  Peter's  is  almost  always  a  disappoint- 
ment, and  it  is  a  great  shock  to  see  a  crowd  pour 
out  of  the  doors ;  people  look  like  ants,  not  men. 
It  is  a  shock,  too,  to  see  a  little  bell  high  up  on 
the  front,  a  bell  apparently  the  size  of  a  locomo- 
tive bell,  begin  to  swing,  and  to  hear  proceeding 
from  it  tones  deep  and  low,  like  the  tones  of 
"Big  Ben."  It  is  only  after  repeated  visits 
that  the  true  size  and  greatness  of  the  building 
begin  to  dawn  slowly  on  one.  An  equally  force- 
ful example  of  false  scale  is  the  front  of  the 
Grand  Central  Station,  in  New  York  City;  the 
great  stone  group  on  the  top,  with  its  thirty-foot 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        215 

figures,  destroys  at  once  the  effect  of  size  that 
the  building  should  have  had.  Both  are  exam- 
ples of  the  scheme  of  composition  and  the 
scheme  of  decoration  of  a  comparatively  small 
building  used  for  a  large  building  by  simply  in- 
creasing every  part  proportionately;  a  scheme 
that  is  necessarily  imperfect,  and  leads  to  false 
judgments. 

The  first  rule  of  the  size  of  ornament,  is,  then, 
that  ornament  on  any  building  should  be  so  pro- 
portioned as  to  make  the  building  appear  its 
true  size.  This  is  to  be  done  by  keeping  archi- 
tectural forms  such  as  balustrades,  etc.,  as 
nearly  as  possible  to  those  sizes  which  are  nor- 
mal and  usual,  and  by  never  unduly  changing 
the  size  of  representational  ornament  from  the 
true  size  of  the  object  represented. 

There  is  a  second  rule  which  governs  the  size 
of  ornament  which  sometimes  modifies  the  strict 
application  of  the  first  rule.  This  can  be  stated 
somewhat  in  these  words :  the  size  of  ornament 
should  be  consistent  with  its  distance  from  the 
eye.  That  is,  ornament  near  the  level  of  the 
eye  ought  to  be  smaller  and  more  delicate  than 
ornament  far  above  it.  This  is  a  rule  equally 
forgotten  in  St.  Peter's,  for  all  the  front  has 


216    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

ornament  of  a  similar  size  and  one  walks  into 
the  same  gigantic  type  of  mouldings  that  are 
used  a  hundred  feet  in  the  air. 

Nor  are  we  guiltless  in  this  respect,  here  in 
America.  Too  often  the  upper  part  of  other- 
wise beautiful  buildings  is  covered  with  a  maze 
of  intricate  ornament  whose  effect  is  totally  lost 
from  the  street.  The  use  of  terra  cotta  leads  us 
often  astray,  for  terra  cotta  is  cast  from  moulds, 
and  for  the  sake  of  economy  the  temptation  is 
strong  to  use  the  same  moulds  for  similar  de- 
tails at  both  top  and  bottom,  with  the  result  that 
the  scale  of  the  ornament  is  bound  to  be  lost  in 
one  place  or  the  other. 

Of  course,  both  these  rules  have  their  ex- 
ceptions; they  are  frequently  violated  in  the 
best  buildings.  But  if  they  are  violated  there 
must  be  a  strong  enough  resultant  gain  to  coun- 
teract the  lack  of  scale  that  results.  For  in- 
stance, there  may  be  a  good  and  sufficient  rea- 
son why  the  architect  may  wish  to  consciously 
falsify  the  scale  of  a  building  to  make  it  appear 
larger,  or  smaller,  than  it  really  is.  The  archi- 
tect of  the  front  of  St.  Peter's  may  have  been 
striving  for  just  that  result  in  order  to  produce 
the  shock  at  the  final  realization  of  its  true  size 


a 

§2 


£S 


S3 


o 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        217 

mentioned  before.  Similarly,  it  may  be  desir- 
able to  make  a  small  building  appear  large,  to 
give  it  commanding  position ;  or  to  make  it  com- 
pose better  with  its  neighbours.  Still,  the  con- 
scious and  voluntary  falsification  of  scale  is  al- 
ways a  dangerous  thing,  and  the  gains  it  pro- 
duces often  visionary;  there  is  about  it  an  in- 
sincerity that  persists  in  giving  continuous  of- 
fence to  a  trained  eye  after  the  trickery  has  once 
been  perceived.  , 

There  is  a  great  freedom  permitted  in  the  use 
of  natural  forms  in  interior  design  that  seems 
to  contradict  this  rule.  For  instance,  there  are 
the  reliefs  on  the  outside  of  the  choir  screen  of 
Notre  Dame  in  Paris,  charming  compositions 
with  figures  about  three  or  four  feet  high  that 
make  a  wonderfully  decorative  band  around  the 
aisles  that  encircle  the  choir.  They  do  not  of- 
fend the  sense  of  scale,  either,  for,  although  they 
are  very  much  under  life  size,  they  are  just  on 
the  level  of  the  eye,  carefully  worked  out  in 
every  detail,  and  frankly  miniatures.  That  is 
the  secret  of  using  naturalistic  ornament  at  a 
size  smaller  than  the  reality,  it  must  be  frankly 
a  miniature,  there  must  be  no  pretense  about  it, 
^or  pretense  is  insincere,  and  insincerity  is  bad 


218    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AECHITECTURE 

art.  That  is,  perhaps,  the  reason  that  near  the 
eye  things  smaller  than  reality  are  so  much 
more  successful,  as  a  rule,  than  those  larger 
than  reality ;  for  it  is  easier  to  make  a  miniature 
than  an  enlargement.  There  are  some  cupids 
holding  a  holy  water  vessel  at  the  entrance  of 
St.  Peter's  which  are  good  examples  of  this; 
they  are  close  to  the  eye,  and  carved  cleverly 
with  a  masterly  truth  to  the  child  form.*  Yet  in 
size  they  resemble  everything  else  in  that 
church.  They  are  gigantic,  seven  feet  high,  per- 
haps, and  somehow  their  size  seems  an  insult, 
and  fills  one  with  a  sort  of  unconscious  stubborn 
anger,  a  desire  to  shout,  "No,  I'm  not  as  small 
as  you  make  me  out  to  be,  you  overgrown  and 
Eabelaisian  infant" — a  sentiment  hardly  relig- 
ious. These  cupids  are  bad  ornament  and  worse 
art,  because  of  their  patent  theatrical  insincerity. 
In  analyzing  and  criticizing  ornament,  then, 
one  must  study  it  from  these  points  of  view: 
First,  it  must  be  beautiful  in  itself.  Secondly,  it 
must  be  suitable ;  to  the  purpose  of  the  building 
it  adorns,  to  the  material  in  which  it  is  executed, 
and  to  the  artistic  medium.  Thirdly,  if  it  con- 
sists of  architectural,  structural  members  used 
for  a  decorative  purpose,  there  must  be  some 

*  See  Frontispiece. 


THE  CRITICISM  OF  ORNAMENT        219 

sufficient  aesthetic  demand  for  them,  and  they 
must  not  actually  contradict  the  structure  of  the 
building,  or  detract  from  its  actual  usefulness, 
although  it  is  not  necessary  for  them  to  express 
absolutely  the  hidden  construction  of  the  build- 
ing. Fourthly,  ornament  must  be  correct  in 
amount,  sufficient  to  give  the  desired  richness 
consistent  with  the  building's  design,  but  not  so 
great  as  to  give  any  appearance  of  vulgar  os- 
tentation. Fifthly,  ornament  should  be  placed 
where  it  will  give  the  maximum  of  effect  because 
of  the  composition  of  the  building ;  and  sixthly, 
it  should  be  of  a  size  consistent,  first  with  the 
size  and  design  of  the  building,  and  second,  with 
its  distance  from  one  looking  at  it.  And  in  ex- 
amining ornament  from  any  of  these  view- 
points, we  must  always  keep  in  mind  that  great 
demand  of  all  true  art :  sincerity  tempered  with 
common  sense. 

Ornament  is  a  subject  so  large,  and  with  im- 
plication so  broad,  that  it  really  demands  a  book 
in  itself.  It  is  at  the  foundation  of  many  of  the 
arts  besides  architecture,  and  it  is  the  side  of 
architecture  that  enjoys  the  most  universal  ap- 
preciation, and  excites  the  most  universal  in- 
terest, because  it  appeals  most  directly  to  that 
decorative  need  at  the  basis  of  all  the  arts. 


CHAPTER  VII 


PLANNING 


Up  to  this  point  this  book  has  dealt  with  archi- 
tecture entirely  as  an  art  of  aesthetic  design, 
whose  effects  are  at  once  apparent  to  the  eye  of 
a  beholder.  It  has  dealt  with  composition  and 
with  the  material  which  the  architect  nses  to 
produce  his  effects,  structural  and  decorative. 
Now  it  must  broaden  its  scope  and  delve  deep 
into  a  side  of  architecture  which  is  less  appar- 
ent, and,  perhaps,  less  superficially  interesting, 
but  upon  which  all  the  rest,  in  a  way,  is  founded. 
There  can  be  absolutely  no  true  appreciation 
of  architecture,  without  some  appreciation  of 
planning,  and  it  is  a  lack  of  attention  to  this 
great  subject  which  has  led  so  many  architec- 
tural critics  like  Ruskin,  far  astray  into  airy 
fields  of  fantastic  theories.  In  the  first  chapter 
an  attempt  was  made  to  show  the  double  nature 
of  architecture ;  its  growth  from  two  ideas,  the 
idea  of  utility  and  structural  strength,  and  the 
idea  of  beauty ;  and  to  point  out  the  unique  char- 

330 


PLANNING  221 

acter  of  the  art  produced  by  the  interreaction  of 
the  two  ideas.  So  far,  most  of  the  book  has 
dealt  with  beauty,  but  this  chapter  must  deal 
largely  with  matters  of  utility  and  structure, 
in  order  that  one  may  gather  a  clearer  notion 
of  the  close  implication  of  the  two  sides  of 
architecture,  and  their  constant  interpenetra- 
tion  of  each  other.  For  although  planning  is 
mainly  a  matter  of  utility  and  strength,  it  must 
not,  therefore,  be  imagined  that  the  true  archi- 
tect is  engineer  when  he  plans,  and  artist  only 
when  he  composes  and  decorates.  The  true  ar- 
chitect is  both  artist  and  engineer  all  the  time, 
and  he  must  keep  his  artistic  imagination  as 
busy  when  he  is  planning,  so  that  his  plans  may 
build  beautifully,  as  he  keeps  his  structural 
sense  when  he  decorates,  in  order  that  his  work 
may  be  saved  from  caprice  and  inconsistency. 
Planning  is  not  the  dull  puzzle  that  it  is  often 
considered.  The  word  suggests  strange  and  in- 
comprehensible diagrams  of  black  lines  and 
white  areas,  and  lines  of  black  dots.  Planning 
means  much  more  than  a  "plan"  or  many 
"plans,"  for  planning  is  merely  the  science 
and  art  of  the  distribution  of  all  the  varied 
parts  of  a  building,  rooms,  corridors,  etc.,  with 


222    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

regard,  first,  to  utility,  and  secondly,  to  beauty. 
A  "plan"  is  merely  a  diagram  to  show  the  ar- 
rangement of  parts  arrived  at  by  means  of  this 
art  and  science. 

Planning  is  a  subject  which  touches  modern 
life  at  every  point ;  which  has  always  so  touched 
life.  The  designer  of  a  hospital  must  know  ab- 
solutely the  requirements  of  a  hospital,  how  it 
is  managed,  what  its  equipment  is,  how  the  parts 
of  it  are  related.  An  architect  may  spend  hours 
in  a  newspaper  office  with  a  notebook,  watching, 
watching,  absorbing  the  methods  of  administra- 
tion, because  he  has  the  problem  before  him  of 
laying  out  a  newspaper  office.  In  order  to  plan 
proper  apartment  houses,  or  tenements,  the  ar- 
chitect must  know  just  how  the  people  live  who 
are  to  inhabit  them,  and  what  are  their  greatest 
needs.  And  so  it  goes  in  the  case  of  all  kinds  of 
buildings ;  the  planner  must  keep  in  the  closest 
and  most  practical  touch  with  the  life  around. 
It  is  this  that  gives  planning,  when  it  is  rightly 
understood,  such  an  appealing  and  fascinat- 
ing interest,  for  every  building  offers  a  dif- 
ferent problem  whose  solution  requires  a 
constantly  changing  knowledge  of  people  and 
affairs.     Seen  in  this  light,  even  a  plan — de- 


PLANNING  223 

spised  diagram — may  take  on  a  new  life  and 
interest. 

A  plan  is  a  horizontal  section  through  a  build- 
ing, taken  at  any  desired  level.  It  is  as  though 
some  giant  were  to  take  a  knife,  cut  square 
through  an  unfurnished  building  in  a  horizontal 
direction,  and  lift  off  the  upper  portion.  What 
he  saw  when  he  looked  down  would  be  a  plan  of 
that  building.  Walls  would  be  solid  lines  of 
greater  or  less  thickness  according  as  the  walls 
were  thick  or  thin.  Doors  would  be  blank  spaces 
between  spaces  of  wall,  and  windows  would  be 
similar  blank  spaces  with  one  or  more  thin 
lines,  the  section  of  the  glass,  with  the  sill  below, 
columns  would  be  solid  circles,  and  so  on.  The 
whole  arrangement  of  the  building  would  be  re- 
vealed at  a  glance;  the  relationship  of  all  the 
rooms  and  corridors  to  each  other,  all  the  open- 
ings, the  doors,  the  windows,  the  courts — every- 
thing. 

A  plan  is,  therefore,  the  architect's  best 
method  of  presenting  the  results  of  his  appli- 
cation of  the  science  of  planning  to  the  particu- 
lar problem  of  the  building  in  hand.  In  a  way 
it  is  an  abstraction ;  it  is  a  diagram,  but  more 
than  any  other  means  at  his  disposal  it  makes 


224    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

clear  the  results  of  his  skill,  and  the  desires 
in  his  mind,  to  the  builder  and  to  the  layman  as 
well.  To  the  architect  a  plan  of  a  building  is 
often  as  valuable  as  photographs  or  sketches, 
for  by  the  relation  of  thick  walls  and  thin,  wide 
rooms  and  narrow,  columns  and  piers,  he  can 
at  a  glance  gain  a  complete  idea  of  the  whole 
construction  of  the  building,  as  well  as  its  ar- 
rangement. 

A  plan,  like  any  diagram,  must  be  looked  at 
with  imagination.  The  observer,  if  he  wishes 
to  gain  the  total  value  of  the  plan,  must  build 
in  his  imagination  walls  over  the  solid  places, 
columns  over  the  dots  or  circles,  he  must  imag- 
ine doors  hung  in  the  doorways,  and  windows 
placed  complete,  he  must  try  to  imagine  the 
ceiling  overhead,  and  the  lighting,  and  he  may 
then  walk  from  room  to  room,  or  through  the 
towering  colonnades,  master  of  the  building 
from  its  plan.  In  architectural  plans  there  have 
come  to  be  certain  conventions  employed  to  help 
the  imagination.  A  dotted  line  from  one  sup- 
port to  another  indicates  usually  an  arch  above ; 
so  in  the  plan  of  a  Gothic  church  the  criss-cross 
dotted  lines  indicate  the  intersections  of  the 
arches  which  form  the  ribs  of  the  vaulting.    A 


PLANNING  225 

dotted  circle  in  a  square  indicates  a  dome  over- 
head and  even  the  design  of  beamed  ceilings  is 
sometimes  indicated  on  a  plan  in  dotted  lines. 
Furniture  may  or  may  not  be  shown,  according 
to  the  purpose  for  which  the  plan  is  to  be  used. 
Often  the  projecting  base  of  the  walls  is  indi- 
cated by  a  single  line  just  outside  the  solid 
portion,  and  the  bases  of  columns  are  similarly 
shown.  Border  lines  can  be  often  drawn  around 
rooms  to  emphasize  their  shape,  and  arrows  or 
axis  lines  may  be  used  to  bring  out  main  en- 
trances, or  lines  of  important  communication. 
With  all  these  aids  a  plan  becomes  a  very  im- 
portant record  of  what  a  building  is,  and  an  in- 
valuable indication  of  its  structure. 

The  science  of  planning  whose  results  are  thus 
shown  demands  first  of  all  a  careful  analysis  of 
the  uses  of  a  building  as  a  whole,  be  it  house, 
store,  factory  or  city  hall  and  an  analysis  of 
the  uses  of  all  the  several  portions  of  which  the 
building  is  composed.  These  may  be  briefly 
classified  as  follows : 

1 — Public  Kooms.  This  class  consists  of 
those  rooms  which  are  open  to  the  public,  or  at 
least  to  a  large  number  of  people.  In  govern- 
mental buildings  they  are  represented  by  pub- 


226    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AKCHITECTURE 

lie  offices  and  the  like,  in  theatres  by  the  audi- 
torium and  foyer,  and  in  houses  by  the  recep- 
tion-room, or  even,  by  stretching  the  meaning 
of  the  word  public,  by  the  living-room. 

2 — Private  Booms.  This  class  consists  of 
those  rooms  given  up  to  the  particular  use 
of  the  people  for  whom  the  building  is  designed. 
Such  rooms  are  private  offices  and  libraries, 
studies,  bedrooms,  morning  rooms,  etc. 

3 — Means  of  Communication.  This  import- 
ant class  consists  of  corridors,  vestibules, 
halls,  staircases,  rotundas,  and  the  like.  All  of 
these  are  of  importance  architecturally,  because 
on  their  right  design  and  arrangement  depends 
a  great  deal  of  the  building's  convenience,  and 
their  aesthetic  effectiveness  is  tremendously 
important,  particularly  in  public  buildings,  be- 
cause so  many  people  are  constantly  using  them. 

4 — Service.  This  class  consists  of  all  those 
parts  of  a  building  that  minister  to  the  lower 
and  humbler  wants  of  man,  such  as  toilets,  clos- 
ets, boiler-rooms,  fuel-rooms,  store-rooms,  pan- 
tries and  kitchens. 

The  first  thing,  then,  which  the  architect  has 
to  do  in  designing  a  building  is  to  classify  the 
different  rooms  which  the  client  demands  under 


PLANNING  227 

some  such  heads  as  the  foregoing.  In  some 
cases  he  may  also  have  to  decide  himself 
what  are  the  rooms  required,  but  usually 
the  client  has  very  definite  notions  of  his  own 
on  this  point.  This  preliminary  classification 
has  a  very  important  place  in  the  science  of 
planning,  for  the  classification  of  any  room 
may  determine  its  position;  service  rooms  de- 
mand subordinate  positions;  public  rooms  de- 
mand positions  readily  accessible,  and  so 
forth.  And  this  classification  is  by  no  means 
always  an  easy  matter.  A  dining-room  is 
usually  a  private  room,  but  in  a  family  that 
entertains  a  great  deal,  it  may  come  to  have 
almost  a  public  significance.  Similarly,  a  living- 
room  may  be  at  one  time  a  private  room,  and 
at  another  time  a  public  room,  and  its  position 
has  to  be  considered  with  regard  to  both  func- 
tions. 

Once  this  classification  is  made,  another  must 
follow,  a  classification  of  the  rooms  as  regards 
their  importance.  In  general  the  public  rooms 
are  the  most  important,  but  by  no  means  is 
this  always  the  case.  In  some  houses,  for  in- 
stance, it  is  the  private  portion  that  needs  em- 
phasis, and  the  public  room,  the  reception-room, 


228     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

is  a  very  minor  room  somewhere  near  the  door. 
This  classification  with  regard  to  importance 
is  even  more  necessary  in  arriving  at  the  ac- 
tual plan  of  a  building  than  the  first  classifica- 
tion, for  it  determines  at  once  what  rooms  shall 
occupy  the  most  prominent  positions. 

For  there  are  important  positions  and  unim- 
portant positions,  and  this  is  the  key  of  the 
whole  matter.  The  most  important  position 
of  all  is  exactly  opposite  the  main  entrance. 
This  should  be  self-evident,  for  the  position  op- 
posite the  entrance  has  these  unique  character- 
istics: First,  it  can  be  approached  without  a 
single  turn,  and  second,  it  is  the  first  thing  that 
strikes  the  eye  of  one  entering.  If  there  are 
two  rooms  of  an  equal  importance,  greater  than 
that  of  any  of  the  rest  of  the  building,  the  most 
important  positions  for  them  are  at  the  two  ends 
of  a  broad,  straight  corridor  which  has  the  main 
entrance  on  one  of  its  sides  in  the  middle.  This 
arrangement  allows  them  to  be  approached  and 
entered  with  but  one  turn  and  also  places  them 
at  the  ends  of  the  important  vista  of  the  cor- 
ridor. If  there  are  three  main  rooms  of  nearly 
equal  importance,  one  can  be  placed  across  a 
corridor,  opposite  the  entrance,  with  the  other 


PLANNING  229 

two  at  the  corridor's  ends,  or  the  three  can  be 
placed  on  three  sides  of  a  square  or  circle,  with 
the  entrance  on  the  fourth  side. 

The  most  important  positions  in  a  building 
are,  then,  always  positions  at  the  ends  of  vistas, 
or  axes,  and  from  this  fact  can  be  deduced  the 
importance  of  these  axes.  In  planning  a  formal 
building  the  architect  usually  starts  with  a  line 
— his  "main  axis' ' — and  on  this  axis  he  plans  if 
possible  his  main  entrance,  and  his  most  import- 
ant features.  Now  this  axis  at  once  implies  a 
certain  symmetry,  and  this  symmetry,  system- 
atized and  ordered,  marshalled  around  a  main 
axis,  leading  to  the  most  important  feature,  is 
at  the  basis  of  a  great  deal  of  successful  plan- 
ning. 

This  is  because  of  no  mystical  metaphysics, 
but  because  of  the  simplest  of  facts  already 
hinted  at.  The  axis  is  merely  an  abstraction  of 
the  simplest  line  of  sight.*  An  open,  well-defined 
axis  in  a  plan  leading  to  an  interesting  and  im- 
portant room  or  feature,  means  an  open,  well- 
defined  symmetrical  view,  with  an  interesting 
feature  as  its  climax,  and  such  a  view  is  always 
more  beautiful  than  a  view  that  is  absolutely 
lacking  in  this  orderly  character;  that  is,  than 

*  See  Fig.  19,  page  236,  and  the  Plate  opposite  page  236. 


230     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

a  view  in  a  plan  that  has  not  been  well  studied 
with  regard  to  axis.  A  well-defined  axis  usually 
signifies  simplicity  and  directness  as  well,  for 
it  is  always  easier  to  walk  in  a  straight  line  than 
to  turn  many  corners.  If  the  axis,  then,  means 
usually  not  only  an  attractive  interior  view  but 
directness  as  well,  it  is  not  strange  that  the 
architect  strives  to  get  this  axial  feeling  in  such 
a  large  amount  of  his  work.  The  layman  does 
not  sufficiently  appreciate  this.  To  him  sym- 
metry means  very  often  money  wasted,  unneces- 
sary monumentality,  cold  formality.  He  sees 
some  old-time  house  in  the  country  built  at  any 
number  of  periods,  with  an  old  part  there,  and 
a  room  added  here,  and  another  there,  and  a 
lean-to  shed  around  the  corner,  and  the  pictur- 
esque atmosphere  of  it  strikes  him  at  once.  It 
seems  to  him  beautiful,  with  its  huddling  roofs 
and  grey  walls  and  many-paned  windows  and 
wandering  plan.  He  cannot  understand  why  the 
architect  tries  so  often  to  get  a  formal  sym- 
metry, when  such  wandering  lines  as  those  of 
the  old  house  are  so  charming.  The  layman 
does  not  appreciate  that  behind  the  architect's 
desire  for  symmetry  lie  those  two  important 


PLANNING  231 

considerations :  interior  effect,  and  directness  of 
access. 

These  two  considerations  are,  of  course,  more 
important  in  formal  public  buildings  than  in 
houses.  So  much  of  the  interior  effect  of  a 
house  depends  upon  its  furnishings  and  decora- 
tions, that  any  overpowering  architectural  ef- 
fect is  out  of  place,  and  such  a  comparatively 
small  number  of  people  use  a  house  that  direct- 
ness of  access  is  relatively  unimportant.  The 
house,  then,  may  be  unsymmetrical,  provided 
that  no  obvious  sacrifices  are  made  to  produce 
picturesqueness.  The  picturesque  house  which 
is  architecturally — and  practically — a  success, 
is  the  house  whose  rambling  lines  seem  to  grow 
naturally  from  the  real  demands  of  its  separate 
parts  and  of  its  site.  If,  on  the  contrary,  a 
house  has  to  be  forced  into  picturesque  outlines 
by  making  its  rooms  of  unnatural  sizes  and 
strained  shapes,  and  related  to  each  other  in 
queer  and  crooked  ways,  the  house  is  bad;  too 
great  a  sacrifice  has  been  made  to  picturesque 
effect.  In  an  old  English  manor,  built  at  four 
or  five  different  periods,  and  added  to  grad- 
ually, as  its  changing  owners  wished,  there  is 


232    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

some  excuse  for  this  crookedness,  due  to  the 
changing  demands  on  its  use  and  the  changing 
methods  of  construction,  and  where  a  rambling 
house  has  so  grown,  it  often  has  a  compelling 
atmosphere  of  charm,  because  it  so  eloquently 
expresses  its  long  history.  But  in  a  new  Ameri- 
can house,  built  all  at  one  period,  by  one  archi- 


Fig.  18.    A  house  in  New  Haven. 

tect,  for  one  owner,  there  is  no  excuse  for  any 
such  crookedness.  When  the  atmosphere  of  age 
and   unstudied   picturesqueness    is   too   much 


PLANNING  233 

sought,  there  results  inevitably  a  certain 
" stagey' 9  quality,  a  certain  lack  of  reality,  that 
is  as  unpleasant  and  insincere  as  its  probable 
owner 's  newly  manufactured  coat-of-arms.  This 
kind  of  informal  picture squeness  is  best  when 
it  is  a  result  of  the  problem  presented  to  the 
architect,  and  not  when  it  is  the  end  for  which 
he  must  seek. 

Even  in  informal  houses  the  architect  must 
never  lose  sight  of  his  axes.  They  are  particu- 
larly important  where  one  or  two  rooms  open 
into  each  other.  Here  is  an  example,  an  actual 
house  in  New  Haven.  The  plan  of  its  main 
portion  is  shown  in  Fig.  18.  Here  there  were 
to  be  arranged  a  library,  a  reception-room,  a 
dining-room,  a  study  and  a  stair  hall.  The 
house  was  to  be  used  for  entertaining  a  great 
deal,  so  that  the  reception-room  had  to  be  large, 
and  arrangements  were  required  for  throwing 
the  greater  part  of  the  first  floor  together.  The 
library,  on  the  other  hand,  was  to  be  kept  pri- 
vate, as  a  family  living-room.  The  problem  was 
solved  as  the  plan  shows.  When  a  guest  en- 
ters the  front  door,  which  is  on  a  landing  raised 
three  steps  above  the  rest  of  the  floor,  he  is  con- 


234    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

fronted  immediately  by  the  wide  arch  that  leads 
to  the  reception-room,  on  the  axis  of  the  door 
and  hall,  and  in  the  middle  of  a  symmetrically 
panelled  hall.  The  reception-room  opens 
through  three  large  windows  onto  a  brick  ter- 
race so  that  there  is  immediately  an  interesting 
view  on  the  axis — arch,  room,  window,  terrace 
and  garden  behind.  The  reception-room  itself 
is  a  large  and  rather  formal  room  with  a  fire- 
place at  the  centre  of  one  end,  and  a  wide  door- 
way in  the  centre  of  the  other,  that  leads  into 
the  dining-room.  The  dining-room  has  its  fire- 
place directly  opposite  this  door  and  opposite 
the  reception-room  fireplace.  When  dining-room 
and  reception-room  are  thrown  into  one,  this 
strongly  marked  axis  through  them  both,  with 
the  fireplace — each  room's  most  interesting 
architectural  feature — at  its  ends,  binds 
both  rooms  into  one  whole;  and  produces  at 
once  a  spacious,  quiet  dignity.  Now  this  axis  is 
crossed  by  the  axis  of  the  front  door  at  a  point 
exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  reception-room,  so 
that  anyone  in  the  reception-room  anywhere 
near  its  centre,  commands  four  differing,  inter- 
esting, and  yet  studied  and  composed  views: 
the  dining-room  fireplace,  the  reception-room 


PLANNING  235 

fireplace,  the  front  door  and  stairs,  and  the  brick 
terrace  and  garden.  Such  a  result  could  never 
be  obtained  in  an  absolutely  unsymmetrical 
plan,  for,  if  the  relation  of  the  parts  were  kept, 
the  beauty  of  each  would  suffer,  and  vice  versa. 
If  these  axes  are  so  important  in  simple 
houses,  it  may  be  readily  appreciated  how  tre- 
mendously important  they  become  in  public 
buildings  where  a  great  impressiveness  is  one 
of  the  important  ends  to  be  achieved.  It  is  one 
of  the  chief  faults  of  our  earlier  American  ar- 
chitecture that  this  important  question  of  plan- 
ning was  so  woefully  neglected.  Building  after 
building  still  exists,  which,  though  beautiful 
without,  has  no  coherent  plan,  no  strongly 
marked  axis,  no  impressive  interior.  The  Court 
House  at  Springfield,  Mass.,  is  an  example ;  the 
conception  of  the  picturesque  exterior,  with  its 
turrets  and  gables,  has  been  the  ruling  idea,  and 
the  plan  is  chaotic,  with  the  various  necessary 
rooms  scattered  anywhere.  In  time  this  lack  of 
planning  sense  became  almost  a  tradition  in 
American  architecture,  and  our  country  is  filled 
with  court  houses,  and  city  halls,  and  post-of- 
fices, in  which  the  exterior  design  has  absolutely 
controlled  the  interior  arrangement,  to  the  utter 


236     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

loss  of  both  convenience  and  interior  effect, 
where  entrances  are  mean,  and  corridors  narrow 
and  dark,  and  stairs  ill-placed  and  crooked. 
It  is  only  during  the  last  thirty  years  that  we 
have  begun  to  learn  how  to  plan.  Now  things 
are  changed  from  those  old  days,  and  for  con- 
trast let  the  reader  look  at  the  entrance  and 


-  W *ib^i*^r 

now*  1-flKjSHJ: 


SENATE 


-»•■• 


Missouri  State  Capitol,  Jefferson  City,  Mo.     . 

Fig.  19.  Note  the  careful  " axing''  of  all  the  im- 
portant corridors,  etc.,  and  in  the  plate  note  the  value 
of  the  main  axis  in  making  an  impressive  interior. 

rotunda  of  the  Missouri  State  Capitol,*  and 
then  at  the  plan.  Here,  interior  impressiveness 
has  been  sought  and  effectively  achieved  and 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


... 


MISSOURI    STATE   CAPITOL,    JEFFERSON    CITY,    MISSOURI 
(STATE    STAIRWAY) 

Compare  this  with  the  plan,  and  notice  how  the  planning  of  State  Stairway, 
Rotunda,  and  Library  produces  a  composed  and  impressive  view. 


PLANNING  237 

the  plan  is  well  arranged,  accessible,  clear,  and 
monumental,  befitting  the  Capitol's  purpose  and 
dignity. 

Imagine,  then,  the  architect  who  is  planning 
a  building  to  have  embodied  in  his  plan  all  the 
foregoing  principles.  He  has  decided  which  are 
his  most  important  rooms,  and  placed  them  in 
the  most  important  positions,  and  he  has  de- 
cided on  the  axes  which  they  determine.  He 
must  now  begin  to  study  the  plan  in  more  detail, 
so  that  each  portion  of  the  building  shall  be 
fitted  to  perform  its  purpose  in  the  best  and 
simplest  way.  To  do  this,  he  must  keep  fixed 
fast  in  his  mind  the  actual  use  that  each  small- 
est portion  is  to  receive,  and  know  just  how  this 
use  must  affect  his  plan,  and  what  arrangement 
it  demands.  This,  again,  is  a  question  of  the  re- 
lationship of  the  parts  of  the  building.  It  is 
merely  carrying  the  method  of  the  architect's 
preliminary  analysis  one  step  further  and  ap- 
plying it,  not  to  the  building  as  a  whole,  but 
to  each  separate  portion  of  the  building. 

He  will  probably  begin  this  analysis  by  the 
consideration  of  the  most  important  rooms — 
the  public  rooms.  Now  these  have  certain  defi- 
nite requirements,  which  it  is  well  to  keep  in 


238    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  AECHITECTURE 

mind.  The  first  requirement  is,  of  course, 
safety.  Safety  in  a  public  room  means  more 
than  strength  of  construction.  It  means  safety 
of  health,  it  means  liberal  exits  in  case  of  fire 
or  panic,  it  embraces  a  number  of  questions  of 
heating,  of  ventilating,  of  arrangement.  The 
second  requirement  is  convenience,  fitness  for 
use.  That  is,  in  a  lecture  hall,  or  theatre,  each 
person  should  be  able  to  command  an  unob- 
structed view  of  the  stage ;  and  the  hall  should 
be  so  planned  that  each  person  can  hear  with- 
out effort.  In  a  public  office,  convenience  de- 
mands that  each  person  shall  be  able  to  enter, 
to  attend  to  his  business,  and  to  leave  in  the 
easiest  possible  manner.  In  a  library,  conven- 
ience demands  such  a  relation  of  parts  that 
anyone  may  enter,  obtain  the  desired  book,  read 
it  in  comfort,  and  depart  with  little  effort  and 
delay,  and  yet  always  be  under  the  librarian's 
control,  so  that  thievery  will  be  almost  impos- 
sible. And  so  on  for  every  kind  of  public  room ; 
the  architect  must  imagine  its  every  use,  and 
make  arrangements  for  it. 

In  general,  then,  the  following  questions  will 
arise  in  the  design  of  a  public  room  which  may 
affect  the  planning  of  the  building: 


PLANNING  239 

First:  How  many  people  will  use  the  room? 
The  answer  to  this  question  will  decide  the 
number  and  size  of  entrances  and  exits  and  the 
amount  of  corridor  space  necessary  to  take  care 
of  the  people. 

Second :  How  long  will  it  be  used  at  a  time  ? 
The  answer  to  this  will  settle  the  amount  of 
ventilation  necessary;  it  will  also  determine 
whether  or  not  public  toilets  should  be  near  at 
hand,  and  if  so,  how  many. 

Third :  Exactly  what  is  its  purpose?  The  an- 
swer to  this  will  determine  whether  it  shall  have 
a  banked  or  level  floor,  or  a  stage,  and  if  so,  of 
what  kind  and  size,  and  it  may  bring  up  the 
whole  question  of  acoustics,  a  science  in  itself 
so  complex  that  only  the  merest  reference  to  it 
is  possible  here.  Acoustics  may  often  be  the 
governing  feature  in  the  shape  and  size  of  a 
room.  If  the  portion  under  consideration  is  a 
suite  of  public  offices,  the  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion will  decide  their  exact  relation  to  each 
other,  the  relative  size  of  public  and  private 
parts,  the  number  of  doors,  and  sometimes  the 
exact  force  and  direction  of  the  lighting. 

This  outline  will  make  plain  at  once  the  inti- 
macy of  the  connection  between  planning  and 


240    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

life ;  it  should  also  show  how  absolutely  the  ar- 
chitect is  governed  by  the  needs  of  the  buildings 
he  is  designing,  and  how  the  arrangement  of  a 
good  building  is  a  direct  result  of  these  factors. 
When  the  architect  has  solved  these  questions 
of  the  use  of  the  public  portions  of  the  build- 
ing, he  may  turn  to  the  next  great  question, 
closely  connected,  the  question  of  corridors  and 
halls  and  means  of  circulation.  Here  he  is  less 
bound  down  by  complex  questions  of  particular 
use  than  in  the  design  of  the  public  rooms  them- 
selves, but  even  in  corridor  design  he  must  al- 
ways keep  dominant  the  factors  of  safety  and 
convenience.  Corridors  should  always  be  as 
straight  as  possible,  and  always  wide,  airy,  and 
light.  A  cramped,  close  corridor,  lighted  by 
electricity  in  mid-day,  is  an  inexcusable  feature 
where  room  is  plentiful  and  money  not  stinted. 
A  corridor  with  steps  that  are  unexpected  and 
not  expressed  in  the  design  so  that  their  exist- 
ence may  be  readily  grasped  from  a  distance 
may  be  dangerous;  in  a  panic  it  may  be  the 
cause  of  many  deaths.  Even  in  corridor  design 
the  architect  must  keep  its  use  clear  in  his  mind- 
We  have  already  considered  the  importance 
of  corridors  and  rotundas  and  the  like  in  giving 


PLANNING  241 

impressiveness  and  grandeur  to  a  building  and 
the  bearing  of  this  upon  planning.  It  is  equally 
true  that  stairs  are  of  tremendous  importance. 
Their  practical  use  is  self-evident  and  so  should 
be  the  qualities  their  use  demands  in  them ;  di- 
rectness, simplicity,  such  a  slope  and  steps  as 
will"  be  comfortable  to  ascend  or  descend,  light — 
everyone  knows,  probably,  from  experience  the 
danger  and  discomfort  of  a  dark  stair — and  ease 
of  access  to  all  portions  of  the  floors  it  connects. 
The  aesthetic  importance  of  stairs*  is  less  evi- 
dent, but  experience  and  open  eyes  will  soon 
show  it.  There  is  an  appeal  about  a  beautiful 
and  well-planned  stair  that  impresses  uncon- 
sciously the  most  callous  observer.  A  good  stair 
is  an  invitation  to  ascend ;  it  suggests  all  kinds 
of  interesting  features  above;  it  fills  one  with 
the  zeal  of  the  explorer  and  an  instinctive  love 
of  the  unknown,  where  the  poorly  designed 
stair,  crowded  into  a  dark  corner,  repels.  There 
is,  besides,  an  innate  grace  in  the  relation  of  the 
sloping  and  level  lines  of  the  railing  or  balus- 
trade that  is  lovely,  and  curved  stairs  are  a  de- 
lightful feature  that  the  French  are  particularly 
skilful  in  using. 
Even  in  the  simplest  stairs  of  our  houses  this 


242    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

is  true.  The  simple  straightforward  stairs  of 
the  Colonial  houses  of  our  ancestors  bear  elo- 
quent witness,  climbing  direct  and  true  with 
carved  newel  and  twisted  baluster  to  a  broad 
landing  lighted  by  a  wide  and  often  beautifully 
decorated  window  near  the  top.  Such  a  stair 
gives  at  once  the  impression  of  fine  large  rooms 
to  live  in  on  the  floors  above.  It  serves 
not  a  little  to  give  that  impression  of  dignified 
homeliness  which  is  so  well  nigh  universal  in 
those  houses,  and  in  public  buildings,  where  im- 
portant rooms  are  often  necessarily  on  the  sec- 
ond floor,  and  where  sometimes  this  second  floor 
is  the  main  floor,  the  "piano  nobile"  of  the 
building,  stairs  are  of  even  greater  importance.* 
For  example,  take  the  great  stairhall  of  the 
Opera  at  Paris.t  These  great  flights,  with  easy 
steps,  and  sweeping  balustrades,  though  per- 
haps over-ornamented  and  ostentatious,  give  at 
once  an  effect  of  majesty,  an  impression  of  being 
built  for  crowds  of  spectators,  that  is  usually 
totally  lacking  in  our  American  theatres,  where 
the  patrons  of  the  cheaper  seats  are  forced  up 
interminable  dreary  stairs,  rough,  uncouth,  un- 
inviting, ugly.    In  the  Paris  Opera,  with  a  truer 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  236. 
fSee  the  Plate  opposite  this  page. 


OPERA    HOUSE,    PARIS,    FRANCE 
(GRAND  stairway) 

One  of  the  best  examples  of  the  monumental  and  decorative  treatment  of  a  necessity 
-the  stairwav. 


PLANNING  243 

democracy,  the  topmost  galleries  open  on  this 
same  great  stair ;  all  the  spectators  are  consid- 
ered one  great  beauty-loving  crowd.  Or  take 
the  Boston  Public  Library,  with  that  majestic 
wide  flight  leading  up  between  the  two  guardian 
lions,  and  then  dividing  into  two  symmetrical 
flights  that  climb  by  painted  wall  to  the  marble 
arcade  above ;  that  is  a  staircase  that  is  not  only 
convenient,  but  one  of  the  most  beautiful  fea- 
tures of  a  beautiful  building  as  well.  The  stair 
correctly  planned  and  conveniently  arranged  is 
one  of  the  most  salient  examples  of  how  archi- 
tecture takes  necessary  requirements  and  con- 
verts them  into  objects  of  beauty  and  delight. 

There  remain  to  be  considered  two  classes  of 
rooms,  private  rooms  and  service  rooms.  In 
these  the  architect  has  less  complex  problems  to 
solve  than  in  the  case  of  public  rooms  and  means 
of  circulation.  In  their  design,  however,  the 
good  architect  should  use  as  busy  an  imagina- 
tion and  as  careful  a  judgment  as  in  the  more 
important  rooms.  He  will  see  that  the  private 
rooms  are  accessible  to  those  who  use  them  and 
that  every  requirement  of  comfort  or  use  has 
been  met.  He  will  see  that  their  privacy  is  pre- 
served, that  each  has  just  the  right  outlook  for 


244    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

its  purpose,  and  that  each  is  properly  related 
to  its  dependences,  and  the  hall  which  serves  it. 
The  architect  's  care  must  extend  to  every  hum- 
blest room ;  he  must  see  that  his  arrangement  of 
service  rooms  makes  an  easy  building  to  run. 
He  must  be  thousand  minded;  he  must  think 
with  the  mind  of  cook,-  of  chambermaid,  of 
boiler  tender,  of  coal  heaver.  He  must  furnish, 
if  possible,  a  separate  and  concealed  service  en- 
trance, so  that  all  the  necessary  materials  to 
be  used  in  the  service  portion  of  the  building  can 
be  delivered  promptly  and  directly  without  in- 
terruption of  the  more  important  functions  of 
the  building,  without  intruding  unduly  or  with 
an  unfortunate  ostentation.  If  he  can  do  this, 
and  induce  his  client  to  accept  the  plan  he  has 
produced  with  so  much  care  and  forethought 
and  imagination,  he  will  not  only  have  helped 
to  produce  a  beautiful  building,  but  he  will  have 
made  it  possible  for  everyone  connected  with  the 
building  to  lead  more  efficient  and  useful  lives. 
A  good  plan  for  any  building  must  be  ar- 
ranged to  fulfill  in  the  best  way  all  the  condi- 
tions required  by  its  varied  parts.  But  good 
planning  must  accomplish  more  than  this:  it 
must  make  an  arrangement  that  is  not  only 


PLANNING  245 

practical  to  build,  not  only  easy  to  run,  but 
strong.  And  this  requirement  demands  a  tre- 
mendous amount  of  study.  The  architect  has  to 
see  to  it  that  all  his  supports  are  heavy  enough, 
and  so  spaced  as  to  permit  a  simple  and  easily 
constructed  floor  or  roof  above ;  he  must  see  that 
chimneys  run  as  directly  as  possible  and  that 
plumbing  is  simply  located. 
\i^  .With  the  growing  use  of  steel,  the  construc- 
f  tion  element  of  planning  has  been  both  simpli- 
fied and  complicated,  for  although  it  is  possible 
to  carry  heavy  loads  over  long  spans  by  the  use 
of  steel  beams,  there  is  an  immense  amount  of 
calculation  and  study  required  in  their  use.  So 
complex  has  steel  construction  grown,  that  it 
has  become  quite  a  science  of  its  own,  with  its 
own  specialists,  and  the  steel  construction  of 
most  large  buildings  is  usually  designed  by  such 
structural  engineers.  Steel  has  made  possible 
the  high  buildings  of  our  cities ;  it  has  made  fire- 
proof buildings  relatively  cheaper  to  build  than 
they  have  been  for  many  centuries.  In  a  way  it 
has  set  the  architect  free  from  many  stunting  re- 
quirements of  wood  and  masonry  construction, 
and  allowed  him  to  realize  dreams  of  lightness 
and  soaring  height  never  before  conceived,  so 


246    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

that  our  great  cities  are  little  by  little  develop- 
ing sky  lines  which  remind  one  of  illustrations 
to  fairy  stories. 

And  yet  steel  has  architectural  disadvantages. 
Modern  forms  of  steel  construction  lead  to  rect- 
angular, uninteresting  plans.  Its  own  self-con- 
tained strength  is  a  disadvantage,  for  part  of 
one's  pleasure  in  the  great  architecture  of  the 
past  lies  in  the  manner  in  which  the  architects 
of  Koman  and  Mediaeval  days  made  the  obstin- 
ate requirements  of  their  structural  materials 
into  things  of  beauty.  The  vaults  of  Eome,  the 
buttresses  of  Gothic  France,  the  open-timbered 
trusses  of  English  halls,  are  examples  of  com- 
plex structural  necessities  transformed  into  ob- 
jects of  enduring  beauty.  But  the  essence  of 
steel  construction  is  merely  a  cross  beam  rest- 
ing on  two  columns  at  the  ends ;  it  exerts  no  side 
thrust;  it  requires  no  buttresses.  It  is  a 
straight,  starkly  simple  system  and  leads  to 
straight,  starkly  simple  plans.  It  is  not  an 
interesting  form  in  itself;  it  has  neither  the 
curved  grace  of  the  vault  nor  the  exuberant  com- 
plexity of  an  old  wooden  truss ;  like  many  a  puri- 
tanical mind,  it  is  unassuming,  strong,  and 
cruelly  unbeautiful. 


PLANNING  247 

Of  course,  there  are  cases  where  it  has  been 
beautifully  treated — some  have  already  been 
noted — but  this  has  been  done  at  great  cost  and 
by  forcing  the  material  into  other  forms  than 
those  it  first  suggests.  In  the  great  majority  of 
cases  steel  architecture  is  an  architecture  sim- 
ply of  beam  and  column,  and  as  such  it  provides 
buildings  often  of  an  uncompromising  rectangu- 
larity.  It  still  remains  for  the  architects  of  the 
future  to  transform  this  uncompromising  rect- 
angularity  into  a  new  and  natural  beauty. 

Even  in  smaller  work,  the  use  of  steel  often 
leads  into  minor  insincerities.  There  are  many 
country  houses  built  to-day  where  fireplaces  on 
upper  floors  have  absolutely  no  relation  to  the 
plan  below;  convenient  steel  beams  allow  them 
to  be  swung  almost  in  mid-air.  Sometimes 
chimneys  entirely  false,  supported  on  steel 
beams,  put  in  merely  to  give  balance,  begin  just 
under  the  roof.  This  is  not  good  architecture,  it 
is  a  mechanical  trick,  and  a  good  plan  is  never 
a  tricky  plan ;  the  good  plan  is  straightforward 
and  simple,  without  "fakes." 

The  good  plan  always  expresses  construc- 
tion; small  house  or  large,  cathedral  or  town 
hall  or  parliament  building,  the  plan  should  re- 


248    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

veal  at  least  the  essence  of  the  way  it  is  built. 
Heavy  walls  should  run  through  where  the 
weight  is  heavy,  and,  if  possible,  the  main  divi- 


Plan  of  Amiens  Cathedral. 

Fig.    20.    A   plan   that   is   both   economical    and 
effective. 

sions  of  the  plan  should  follow  these  main  con- 
structive lines.  Arches  should  be  amply  but- 
tressed and  the  plan  should  reveal  the  but- 
tress. Notice  this  plan  of  Amiens  Cathedral, 
and  see  how  the  heavy  cross  buttresses  at  the 


PLANNING  249 

sides  are  placed  where  they  best  do  their  work, 
with  their  long  axis  parallel  to  the  cross  thrust 
of  the  vaults.  And  notice  how  around  the  apse 
the  great  main  buttresses  are  used  to  divide  the 
chapels  and  how  the  crossing  of  nave  and  tran- 
sept is  emphasized  by  the  heavier  piers  that  are 
necessary  to  carry  the  great  square  vault  above 
them.  It  is  a  perfect  plan ;  every  part  does  its 
work  simply  and  easily ;  and  every  part  is  made 
to  work  in  as  many  ways  as  possible. 

This  is  an  ideal  that  every  plan  should  strive 
to  emulate.  There  should  be  a  constructive 
reason  for  every  important  feature,  and  a  prac- 
tical reason  behind  each  constructive  feature. 
Breaks  in  the  outside  wall  should  indicate 
changes  in  function  within,  and  important  struc- 
tural walls  should  separate  important  rooms,  if 
possible.  This  is  an  ideal  that  is  impossible 
of  absolute  realization,  particularly  in  small 
houses,  where  the  demands  are  so  complex  and 
the  construction  so  simple,  but  it  is  an  ideal  that 
is  always  in  the  architect's  mind  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  and  it  is  an  ideal  that  has  had  a 
tremendous  power  in  the  development  of  archi- 
tectural forms  throughout  the  ages. 

Planning  has  still  a  third  requirement  to  ful- 


250    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

fill.  It  is  the  science  of  the  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem of  a  building  with  regard  first,  to  practical 
use;  second,  to  constructive  simplicity  and 
strength;  and  thirdly,  to  beauty.*  Indeed,  in 
planning,  as  in  every  other  branch  of  the  art  of 
architecture,  the  question  of  beauty  is  so  impli- 
cated and  bound  up  with  all  the  other  questions 
that  confront  the  architect,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  consider  them  entirely  apart.  So,  in  our  con- 
sideration of  the  practical  side  of  planning,  we 
are  led  inevitably  into  this  structural  question ; 
so  the  constructive  element  was  considered  from 
the  point  of  view  of  beauty  as  well.  It  will, 
therefore,  not  be  necessary  to  consider  the  sub- 
ject at  any  very  great  length  again. 

There  is  one  point,  however,  that  must  be  in- 
sisted upon.  And  that  is  the  fact  that  the  archi- 
tect 's  solution  of  the  plan  determines  absolutely 
the  general  character  of  the  outside  appearance 
of  a  building,  and  its  interior  effect.  The  reverse 
is  also  true.  If  an  architect,  or  his  client,  de- 
cides that  a  certain  style  of  exterior  or  interior 
design  is  required  for  a  building,  by  reason  of 
the  adjacent  buildings,  or  the  character  of  the 
site,  or  tradition,  or  for  any  other  reason,  then 
this  choice  of  style  is  bound  to  exercise  a  tre- 


PLANNING  251 

mendous  influence  over  the  planning  of  the 
building.  The  layman  often  forgets  this.  He 
thinks  of  the  walls  and  roof  of  the  building 
merely  as  a  shell,  and  the  interior  arrangement 
as  a  separate  and  unrelated  kernel.  He  may 
desire  for  himself  a  simple  Colonial  house  out- 
side and  a  complex  arrangement  of  rooms  in- 
side which  is  directly  contrary  to  the  Colonial 
straightforward  simplicity.  And  then  he  won- 
ders because  his  architect,  in  striving  to  meet 
both  demands,  creates  a  result  that  satisfies 
neither  demand  absolutely.  If  every  educated 
man  and  woman  in  the  country  once  truly  real- 
ized the  absolute  interdependence  of  planning 
and  exterior  design,  there  would  at  once  develop 
a  sane  tradition  of  popular  criticism  of  architec- 
ture, a  development  which  would  raise  our  ar- 
chitectural standard  more  than  any  other  one 
thing. 

And  this  interdependence  of  planning  and  de- 
sign is  equally  important  in  the  interior,  and 
perhaps  more  so,  for  there  even  more  strongly 
the  arrangement  not  only  suggests  but  actually 
creates  interior  effect.  This  has  been  already 
referred  to  at  some  length,  but  it  cannot  be 
stated  too  often,  or  too  strongly.    Our  country 


252    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

has  been  filled  with  houses  that  are  mean  and 
gaudy  within  just  because  the  designer  has  at- 
tempted to  produce  effects  his  plan  contra- 
dicted ;  he  has  made  elaborate  doors  lead  to  nar- 
row and  congested  halls  or  he  has  treated  tiny 
rooms  with  miniature  columns  and  entablatures 
all  complete,  thinking  thereby  to  gain  an  effect 
of  grandeur. 

The  good  architect,  on  the  other  hand,  will 
not  try  to  force  effects  his  plan  does  not  war- 
rant, nor  will  a  client,  if  he  is  wise,  attempt  to 
make  him  do  so.  The  architect  will  always  keep 
in  mind  the  interior  effect  he  wishes  to  produce, 
be  it  grand  or  modest,  and  he  will  make  his  plan 
with  this  idea  clearly  before  him.  He  will  see 
that  the  effect  is  suitable  to  the  purpose  of  the 
room,  and  not  attempt  to  give  us  living-rooms 
like  the  state  reception-rooms  of  an  eighteenth 
century  palace,  nor  dining-rooms  too  coldly 
monumental,  nor  churches  like  barns,  nor  great 
public  halls  that  are  bare  and  undignified.  He 
will  plan  always  to  give  an  interior  effect  that  is 
absolutely  in  harmony  with  the  use  of  the  in- 
terior, with  the  plan,  and  with  the  exterior. 

It  should  be  evident  by  this  time  how  infin- 
itely complex  is  the  science  of  planning.    It  is 


PLANNING  253 

like  some  of  those  mathematical  problems  which 
algebra  cannot  solve  because  there  are  too  many 
variables,  problems  that  yield  only  to  calculus. 
In  the  case  of  planning  the  variables  are  four : 
practicability,  constructive  demands,  exterior 
effect,  and  interior  effect.  And  they  ought  all 
to  be  always  in  the  architect's  mind  at  once; 
not  at  one  point  one  of  them,  at  another  point 
another;  for  every  smallest  detail  of  a  plan 
must  be  considered  from  all  four  standpoints. 
And  it  is  this  fourfold  attitude  that  the  good 
architect  always  adopts. 

The  best  way  to  illustrate  and  clarify  a  few 
of  the  principles  of  planning  is  to  gain  some  in- 
sight into  the  way  an  architect  goes  to  work  to 
plan  a  building.  This  is  easiest  done  by  con- 
sidering an  actual  problem  of  some  simple  sort 
and  attempting  to  solve  it. 

Let  us  take  such  a  problem.  Imagine  a 
wealthy  man  with  a  large  library  and  art  col- 
lection which  he  desires  adequately  to  house  in 
such  a  way  that  the  public  can  be  admitted  at 
certain  times.  He  has  formulated  the  problem 
in  some  such  way  as  this : 

Kooms  desired: 

Large  gallery  for  pictures  and  sculpture, 


254    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

about  80  feet  by  30  feet ;  perhaps  with  an  up- 
stairs gallery. 

Library  about  20  feet  by  30  feet. 

Upstairs  offices  for  repairing,  binding,  etc. 

Private  entrance  vestibule,  for  his  own  use. 

Public  entrance  and  vestibule. 

Style  desired:  No  absolute  style  to  be  fol- 
lowed, but  the  ideas  of  grace,  of  solidity,  and 
dignity  to  be  emphasized. 

Site :  A  level  piece  of  ground  near  his  house, 
upon  a  principal  street. 

This  programme  is  the  basis  on  which  we  must 
begin.  There  are  a  few  points  immediately  self- 
evident  which  will  help  us  in  the  solution  of  the 


tSLJL 


Fig.  21.    A  and  B  are  both  bad  because  of  a  false 
balance  between  important  and  unimportant  rooms, 
a :  The  art  gallery. 
b :  The  library. 

problem.    First,  the  ideas  of  dignity  and  solid- 
ity to  be  emphasized  suggest  at  once  a  somewhat 


PLANNING  255 

formal  and  symmetrical  treatment.  This  pre- 
vents us  from  stringing  the  rooms  out  in  a  line, 
as  in  Fig.  21A. 

In  any  such  arrangement  the  main  entrance 
comes  at  a  very  awkward  place  in  the  gallery 
and  the  exterior  does  not  express  the  interior. 
Equally  bad  is  any  attempt  to  make  the  library 
balance  the  art  gallery  by  putting  both  on  either 
side  of  a  vestibule,  as  in  Fig.  21B.  In  this  so- 
lution the  front  balances,  but  the  building  is  a 
queer  shape,  difficult  and  expensive  to  build. 
This  solution  also  suggests  at  once  a  corner  lot, 
and  the  building  is  not  on  a  corner. 

Let  us  try  to  analyze  the  problem,  with  regard 
to  the  headings  suggested  in  the  early  part  of 
this  chapter,  as  follows: 

Public  Eooms — Art  gallery,  vestibule,  possi- 
bly, to  a  less  extent,  the  library. 

Private  Eooms — Generally,  the  library,  the 
repairing  and  binding  offices. 

Corridors,  etc. — Stairs  to  the  upper  floor. 

Service — Heating,  storage,  etc. 

Then  let  us  make  another  analysis  with  re-! 
gard  to  importance.  The  art  gallery  is  undoubt- 
edly the  most  important  room  when  both  public 
and  private  use  are  considered  and  the  library 


256    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

is  the  room  of  next  importance.  All  the  other 
rooms  are  of  minor  importance.  Now,  the  most 
important  position  is  the  position  on  the  main 
axis,  opposite  the  entrance.  At  once,  therefore, 
some  such  solution  as  this  might  be  possible. 
(Fig.  22A.) 


:    b 


•  •  •• 

A. 


x>. 


Fia.  22.  A  is  a  logical  arrangement  but  unsuited 
to  the  position  of  the  building  on  an  important  street. 
B  is  a  better  solution,  but  the  rear  portion  of  the 
building  is  still  not  absolutely  correct  in  arrangement. 

a :  The  art  gallery. 

b :  The  library. 

But  this  is  also  unsatisfactory,  because  the 
short,  uninteresting  front  is  towards  the  street, 
and  the  long  facade  stretches  away  from  the 
public.  In  addition,  the  building  is  of  an  un- 
pleasantly long  shape.  What  possible  solution 
is  there  remaining?    Let  us  try  a  plan  similar 


PLANNING  257 

to  the  plan  above,  but  somewhat  different. 
(Fig.  22B.) 

This  plan  seems  to  answer  all  the  demands 
of  the  problem  absolutely.  It  is  dignified  and 
solid.  The  art  gallery  has  the  most  important 
position  with  the  library  correctly  related.  Li- 
brary and  art  gallery  are  all  near  the  entrance, 
easily  accessible.  There  is  a  private  entrance 
close  to  the  library.  Only  one  drawback  to  the 
plan  exists ;  the  fact  that  in  a  way  the  art  gal- 
lery is  broken  in  two,  and  some  valuable  wall 
space  lost  at  the  back,  where  the  library  comes. 
This  can  be  readily  made  up  by  slightly  increas- 
ing the  length  of  the  building.  And  an  art  gal- 
lery can  stand  dividing  in  this  way  which  gives  a 
little  variety.  In  addition,  the  library  will  never 
be  so  patronized  by  numbers  of  people  that  the 
crowds  entering  and  leaving  it  will  disturb  those 
who  are  looking  at  the  gallery.  This  objection 
being  disposed  of,  we  may  decide  on  this  plan 
as  in  general  the  correct  one  and  begin  to  take 
it  up  more  in  detail. 

The  Art  Gallery:  The  prime  necessity  in  a 
gallery  is  unbroken  wall  space.  It  will,  there- 
fore, be  necessary  to  cut  all  architectural 
features  in  the  room  down  to  a  minimum  and  to 


258    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

cut  out  windows.  Sky-lighting  is  the  thing  to 
use. 

Library:  Coziness,  dignified  richness,  and 
wall  space  for  books  are  the  prime  requisites. 
But  sky-lighting  in  a  library  is  very  bad  and 
hard  on  the  eyes.  We  must,  therefore,  have  di- 
rect window  illumination  for  the  library.  A 
fireplace  might  also  be  desirable. 

Corridors,  etc. 

Vestibule :  This  need  not  be  large,  as  no  great 
crowds  will  ever  patronize  the  building;  it 
should,  however,  be  dignified,  and,  if  possible, 
have  small  coat-rooms  attached. 

Connection  between  Library  and  Art  Gallery : 
To  put  the  library  close  to  the  art  gallery  is  too 
architecturally  brusque.  A  lobby  might  be  bet- 
ter, to  make  a  softer,  more  graceful  connection ; 
a  place  where  people  might  pause  in  their  tour 
of  the  gallery  and  sit  down  to  rest.  It  might  be 
possible  to  put  the  upstairs  gallery  the  owner 
desires  over  this  lobby.  It  would  make  a  charm- 
ing feature,  just  sufficiently  interesting  to  miti- 
gate the  baldness  of  the  gallery. 

Service :  Service  stairs,  perhaps  also  a  small 
dumbwaiter,  are  necessary  to  reach  the  repair- 


PLANNING 


259 


ing  and  binding  rooms  which  we  will  place  over 
the  library.  A  lavatory  and  coat-room  adjacent 
to  the  library  seem  advisable  as  well  and  the 
rest  of  the  service,  heating  and  storage  can  go 
in  the  basement,  so  that  we  need  not  be  con- 
cerned about  them  now. 

"We  have,  therefore,  arrived  at  the  following 
plan.    (Fig.  23.) 


The  Final  Solution 

Fig.  23.  There  is  ample  lobby  space,  a  vestibule 
between  gallery  and  library  capable  of  very  attractive 
treatment,  and,  furthermore,  a  compactness  of  the 
whole  which  gives  large  space  for  storage,  toilets, 
repairing,  etc.,  on  the  first  floor. 

Now  this  plan  at  once  determines  our  archi- 


260    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

tectural  effect  both  outside  and  in.  This  is  a 
complex  matter,  so  I  shall  only  touch  it  here  and 
leave  my  readers  to  carry  it  as  far  as  they 
please,  by  imagining  different  possible  interiors 


Fig.  24.  Two  possible  elevations  of  the  scheme 
shown  in  Figure  23.  Of  these  B  is  the  most  ex- 
pressive. 

for  these  various  rooms,  and  different  possible 
treatments  for  the  front  of  the  building. 
Exterior  treatment :  The  plan  we  have  chosen 


PLANNING  261 

limits  us  definitely  to  a  treatment  of  two  simple 
blank  walls,  with  a  monumental  entrance  mo- 
tive projecting  in  the  centre.  That  is,  we  are 
limited  to  one  simple  composition  of  shapes. 
Also,  since  the  gallery  is  sky-lighted,  it  might 
be  well  to  express  the  sky-lights,  and  attempt 
to  express  the  fact  that  there  is  but  one  long 
room  behind.  For  this  reason,  we  might  prefer 
a  treatment  like  Fig.  24B  to  one  like  Fig.  24A. 
Fig.  24B  undoubtedly  contains  one  large  gallery 
with  an  entrance  and  vestibule  in  front;  Fig. 
24A  might  be  two  rooms  with  a  corridor  be- 
tween. 

Beyond  this  point  the  design  becomes  a  ques- 
tion of  personal  taste  and  preference,  but  thus 
far  it  is  the  plan  that  has  been  the  governing 
factor.  Similarly,  in  the  interior,  although  there 
are  an  infinite  number  of  treatments  possible, 
the  number  of  schemes  is  limited  by  the  plan. 

In  this  analysis  of  a  simple  planning  problem, 
no  account  has  been  taken  of  many  other  factors 
which  might  influence  the  planning  in  one  way 
or  another;  such  as  the  factors  of  cost,  of 
orientation,  of  material  and  so  forth.  These  fac- 
tors have  been  purposely  omitted  in  order  that 
the  problem  might  be  kept  simple  and  easily 


262    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

grasped.  As  it  is,  however  this  little  attempt  at 
planning  a  simple  building  may  have  given  the 
reader  some  idea  of  the  architect's  real  work, 
some  conception  of  the  thousand  things  he  must 
decide,  some  idea  of  the  fascination  of  his  pro- 
fession. 

Planning  is  by  no  means  the  uninteresting  and 
abstruse  matter  that  it  is  usually  considered, 
without  importance  save  as  a  humdrum  matter 
of  convenience.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  at  the 
very  foundation  of  all  good  architecture;  for 
the  plan  determines  the  character  of  the  build- 
ing outside  and  in,  and  it  is  good  planning,  as 
well  as  good  design,  which  has  made,  and  still 
makes,  the  great  buildings  of  the  world  not  only 
suitable  for  their  purpose  but  also  beautiful  for 
our  eyes,  and  strong  to  endure,  so  that  the  art  of 
architecture,  through  planning,  is  the  greatest, 
the  widest,  the  most  practical  and  useful  of  all 
the  arts. 


CHAPTER  Vni 


THE   MEANING  OF   STYLE 


There  is  one  of  the  many  sides  of  architecture 
that  has  been  mentioned  in  the  first  chapter 
which  needs  more  discussion.  Up  to  the  pres- 
ent we  have  been  concerned  to  a  large  extent 
with  the  material  side  of  architecture.  Archi- 
tecture has  been  considered  as  a  matter  of  form, 
aesthetic  and  practical.  It  is  one  of  the  glories 
of  architecture  that  it  is  more  than  this  form. 
It  has  a  spiritual  and  intellectual  message  for 
us  as  well  as  an  aesthetic  stimulation.  For  be- 
hind the  forms  which  architecture  uses,  and 
behind  the  plans  which  it  adopts  to  solve  the 
needs  of  the  people  whose  art  it  is,  there  lies  a 
meaning  which  is  deeply  bound  up  with  the 
whole  history  of  mankind.  And  it  is  this  mean- 
ing which  must  be  considered  here. 

Architecture  is  a  key  to  history  when  this  side 
of  it  is  rightly  appreciated  and  understood. 
Every  quality  of  the  builder  is  as  truly  mirrored 
in  his  building  as  every  quality  of  a  writer  is 

263 


264    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

expressed  in  his  poem  or  play  or  story.  In- 
deed, architecture  is  often  even  more  relent- 
lessly expressive  than  literature ;  for  the  archi- 
tect's  building  is  always  the  product  of  at  least 
two  personalities,  that  of  the  architect  and  that 
of  the  owner  of  the  building,  and  oftentimes  it  is 
the  product  of  a  great  many  more ;  it  may  be  the 
expression  of  a  collective  personality,  of  a 
guild,  of  a  state,  of  a  religion. 

Moreover,  the  whole  art  of  architecture,  as 
the  last  chapter  sought  to  show,  is  absolutely 
dependent  upon  planning,  and  planning,  in  its 
turn,  upon  the  practical  needs  of  those  people 
whose  art  it  is.  Architecture,  then,  is  always 
the  result  in  any  one  period  of  two  main  ideas : 
the  idea  of  the  needs  of  the  people,  and  the  idea 
of  beauty  which  is  prevalent  at  that  period. 
And  these  two  ideas  are  bound  together  by  a 
common  desire  and  purpose — the  desire  to  cre- 
ate a  beautiful  building — and  are  mutually  in- 
terdependent. 

One  may,  therefore,  very  well  see  how  prob- 
able it  is  that  architecture  is  one  of  the  most 
complete  expressions  of  life  that  there  is. 
Poetry  and  music  and  theology  give  us  an  ex- 
pression of  the  ideals  of  beauty  and  goodness 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  265 

of  the  times  that  produced  them;  and  political 
and  economical  history  furnish  us  with  the 
practical  conditions  of  existence;  but  in  archi- 
tecture alone  can  we  find  an  art  which  by  its 
own  character,  and  because  of  its  very  nature, 
expresses  both  great  sides  of  existence  and  mir- 
rors both  the  wealth  and  the  dreams  of  hu- 
manity. 

This  is  a  fact  which  most  people  uncon- 
sciously appreciate.  They  begin  when  they  are 
children  to  think  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  terms  of 
castles  and  turrets,  as  well  as  of  knights  and 
men-at-arms.  Later,  as  they  grow  older,  they 
begin  to  think  of  cathedrals  and  monuments, 
because  in  these  buildings,  more  than  in  any 
other  work  of  the  time,  the  spirit  of  the  Thir- 
teenth Century  flourished  complete.  The  Gothic 
Cathedral  is  fascinating  because  its  style  is 
what  it  is,  and  its  style  is  the  direct  result  of 
the  life  of  that  far-off  time. 

Style  in  architecture  is  merely  a  manner  of 
building  that  is  different  from  some  other  man- 
ner of  building.  It  includes  in  its  scope  not  only 
ornament,  but  methods  of  construction  and 
planning  as  well.  The  so-called  "styles"  of  ar- 
chitecture are  thus  named  by  a  limitation  of  the 


266     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

word  " style;"  they  signify  merely  convenient 
heads  under  which  we  can  classify  buildings, 
first  according  to  date  and  nation  and  second 
according  to  the  forms  originated  at  those 
dates  and  by  those  nations.  Thus  one  speaks 
of  the  " grand"  style  in  architecture,  meaning 
a  large  way  of  conceiving  and  ornamenting 
buildings,  and  one  may  also  speak  with  equal 
propriety  of  the  Koman  style,  or  the  Gothic 
style,  meaning  either  the  style  of  Roman  build- 
ings, or  Gothic  buildings,  or  modern  buildings 
which  use  analogous  forms. 

This  use  of  the  word  is  very  puzzling  when 
one  attempts  to  apply  it  to  modern  architecture. 
According  to  what  has  been  said  before,  the 
buildings  that  are  being  put  up  at  the  present 
time  ought  to  be  in  a  modern  style  expressive 
of  our  life  and  needs.  Yet  most  of  our  modern 
buildings  are  built  in  one  of  the  historical  styles, 
Greek,  or  Roman,  or  Gothic,  or  Renaissance 
styles  developed  in  periods  when  the  whole 
tenor  of  life  was  vastly  different  from  what  it 
is  to-day.  This  seems  at  once  an  obvious  con- 
tradiction, and  a  contradiction  which,  if  true, 
imperils  the  entire  validity  of  the  thesis  that 
art  is  a  complete  expression  of  life, 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  267 

There  are  many  people  who  believe  the  con- 
tradiction real,  and,  therefore,  claim  that  our 
modern  architecture  is  false,  and  not  expressive 
of  ourselves.  They  would  like  to  see  the  Ameri- 
can architects  strive  after  originality  at  all 
costs.  They  consider  tradition  the  great  bug- 
bear of  modern  American  art,  and  they  have 
visions  of  an  American  architecture  to  be  born 
suddenly,  full  grown,  out  of  our  national  life 
as  Athena  sprang,  all  armed,  from  the  head  of 
Zeus. 

Their  claim  seems  at  first  well  founded  and 
sound.  Sincerity  is  a  virtue  in  any  art  and  it 
seems  self-evident  that  sincerity  demands  a  dif- 
ferent style  for  the  building  of  a  steel  frame 
hotel  or  office  building  from  the  style  the  Eo- 
mans  used  in  building  a  great  temple,  or  the 
French  in  building  a  cathedral  or  chateau.  But 
here  it  becomes  necessary  to  proceed  in  our 
thinking  with  great  care,  and  to  be  absolutely 
sure  of  the  exact  meaning  of  the  word  " style' ' 
as  we  use  it.  The  whole  force  of  any  argument 
with  regard  to  this  matter  will  depend  upon  our 
exact  definition  of  this  word.  We  must  be  sure 
that  when  we  use  the  words  "American  style," 
we  are  using  them  in  exactly  the  same  sense  as 


268    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

we  use  them  in  the  expressions  " Greek  style/' 
or  ' '  Koman  style, ' '  or  * '  Gothic  style. ' ' 

It  is  in  a  failure  to  discriminate  at  this  point 
that  there  lies  the  fallacy  which  is  the  weak 
link  in  the  chain  of  argument  of  those  who  are 
clamouring  for  originality,  and  accusing  our  ar- 
chitects of  subservience  to  an  outworn  tradi- 
tion. For  when  they  speak  of  the  American 
style,  they  mean  simply,  the  American  method 
of  building  beautifully.  They  mean  the  Ameri- 
can method  of  making  the  buildings  our  civili- 
zation demands  and  produces,  objects  of  beauty. 
In  short,  they  mean  the  whole  American  method 
of  architectural  composition,  both  as  regard 
to  planning  and  to  exterior  and  interior  effect. 
But  when  these  critics  speak  of  Greek  style  or 
Koman  style,  do  they  mean  the  same  thing? 
When  they  say  that  such  and  such  an  American 
building  is  bad  and  insincere,  because  it  is 
built  in  such  and  such  a  style,  which  is  foreign 
to  us  and  our  wants,  they  mean  that  the  building 
in  question  is  decorated  with  architectural 
forms  and  details  of  the  foreign  style.  In  other 
words,  when  they  speak  of  an  American  style, 
they  are  speaking  in  a  large  and  inclusive  way ; 
and  when  they  speak  of  Roman  or  Gothic  or 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  269 

Kenaissance  styles,  applied  to  modern  work, 
they  refer  merely  to  the  forms  of  the  architec- 
tural detail  with  which  a  building  is  dressed. 
There  is  no  innate  contradiction  in  the  fact  that 
an  American  building  may  be  a  perfect  example 
of  an  American  style,  and  yet  be  built  in  one  of 
the  historical  styles,  for  the  word  style  is  used 
in  two  different  senses.  In  one  case  it  refers  to 
general  facts  of  composition  and  structure,  and 
in  the  other,  to  an  accepted  architectural  alpha- 
bet of  forms. 

A  single  visit  to  any  large  city  should  prove 
this  at  once.  Let  the  reader  select  any  two 
large  office  buildings,  or  apartment  houses,  built 
each  in  a  different  historical  "style"  from  the 
other.  All  the  detail  on  the  two  buildings  is 
different ;  one  may  have  the  pointed  arches,  the 
delicate  tracery,  the  crockets  and  finials  of  flam- 
boyant French  Gothic,  and  the  other  the  stately 
columns  and  entablatures  and  round  arches  of 
Eome. 

Yet  if  one  could  get  a  mile  or  two  away  from 
these  two  buildings,  they  would  look  alike  in 
every  general  respect.  Both  would  appear  as 
rectangular  box-like  masses,  perhaps  with  small 
and  unimportant  roofs ;  with  some  sort  of  deco- 


270    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

ration  near  the  top  and  some  sort  of  decoration 
near  the  bottom.  All  between  would  be  a  sur- 
face of  wall  emplaided  with  tiny  windows,  close 
together.  Anyone  who  has  seen  the  silhouette 
of  New  York  or  Chicago,  or  Pittsburgh,  or  San 
Francisco,  will  appreciate  the  truth  of  this.  All 
the  buildings  are  similar  in  general  line  and 
effect ;  all  have  the  same  hall  marks  of  national- 
ity. In  their  square  shapes,  in  their  height,  and 
in  the  size  and  number  of  their  windows  the 
effect  of  the  steel  construction  is  revealed;  the 
spirit  of  modern  America  breathes  through 
them.  They  are  unique,  those  silhouettes  of  our 
American  cities ;  as  different  from  the  silhouette 
of  London,  or  Rome,  or  Paris,  or  Constanti- 
nople as  our  life  is  different  from  the  lives  in 
those  great  capitals,  and  it  is  our  architects  that 
have  made  this  silhouette.  This  unique  outline 
in  all  its  strength  and  daring,  and  occasional 
awkwardness,  is  one  sign  of  the  fact  that  they 
have  evolved  out  of  our  needs  a  national  style 
all  our  own. 

Even  this  explanation,  however,  does  not  suit 
some  of  the  critics  of  our  modern  architecture. 
They  acknowledge  the  Americanism  of  it  up  to 
this  point ;  but  they  are  still  not  satisfied.  They 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  271 

look  back  over  architectural  history,  and  point 
out  the  fact  that  the  Greeks  built  in  one  way 
and  the  Eomans  in  another,  and  the  peoples  of 
mediaeval  Europe  in  another,  and  so  on,  not 
only  as  regards  planning  and  composition  and 
outline  and  mass,  but  also  as  regards  detail  and 
ornament.  Each  period  of  each  nation  seems 
to  have  had  its  own  alphabet  of  decorative  ma- 
terial, its  own  unique  feeling  for  architectural 
ornament.  We,  on  the  other  hand,  have  devel- 
oped no  important  new  decorative  forms;  and 
these  critics  consider  this  a  sign  of  some  strange 
lack  of  creative  ability  on  the  part  of  our  archi- 
tects, and  of  artistic  sensibility  on  the  part  of 
the  majority  of  the  public. 

And  they  go  further  than  this.  They  point 
out  the  example  of  modern  Germany,  of  Aus- 
tria, of  the  Scandinavian  countries,  and  to  a 
less  extent  of  Great  Britain,  where  more  and 
more  architects  seem  to  be  designing  with  a  new 
spirit  of  freedom,  and  seem  more  and  more  to 
be  passing  by  the  architectural  traditions; 
where  many  successful  new  forms  are  being  de- 
veloped and  used.  If  this  Art  Nouveau,  this 
Secessionism,,  is  so  virile  and  successful 
abroad,  why  is  it  that  American  architects  are 


272    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

content  with  what  is  claimed  to  be  a  worn-out 
tradition! 

This  question  can  best  be  answered  by  a  con- 
sideration of  the  history  of  architecture;  per- 
haps from  a  point  of  view  slightly  different 
from  that  adopted  by  those  who  make  these  crit- 
icisms of  our  art.  They  point  to  the  developed 
styles  of  certain  nations  and  periods  for  exam- 
ples to  emulate;  we  must  attempt  to  find  the 
causes  and  influences  behind  the  developments 
themselves  that  made  the  styles  of  the  past 
what  they  are.  In  this  consideration  we  may 
well  omit  the  early  oriental  styles,  as  too  little  is 
definitely  known  of  their  origin  and  develop- 
ment, and  as,  moreover,  they  were  early  petri- 
fied by  civilizations  dominated  by  priesthoods 
whose  traditional  beliefs  admitted  of  little  gen- 
uine progress. 

In  Greece,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  no 
such  static  rule  of  tradition ;  the  Greeks,  as  has 
been  noted  earlier,  were  always  striving  after 
an  unattainable  and  ever-growing  ideal  of 
beauty,  an  ideal  that  grew  as  rapidly  as  their 
powers  of  achievement.  Furthermore,  Greek 
history  is  well  known,  and  completely  under- 
stood ;  so  that  it  is  not  difficult  to  trace  the  de- 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  273 

velopment  of  the  Greek  styles,  and  to  discover 
the  causes  which  produced  them.  For  instance, 
it  is  definitely  known,  and  proved  beyond  a 
doubt  by  contemporary  inscriptions,  that  in  the 
earliest  days  of  Greek  civilization,  days  before 
the  time  when  the  tribes  which  made  the  histori- 
cal Greek  nation  had  reached  their  final  homes, 
the  entire  Eastern  Mediterranean  was  inhabited 
by  peoples  living  in  close  commercial  and  cul- 
tural relations.  Even  at  that  early  date  colonies 
of  the  people  from  the  Greek  Islands  had  set- 
tled in  the  rich  country  of  Egypt,  and  that  great 
nation  of  sailors — the  Phoenicians — drove  a 
thriving  trade  between  one  country  and  another. 
It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  to  find  that  the 
art  of  this  early  time  had  many  common,  inter- 
national characteristics  and  motives.  We  find 
identically  the  same  patterns  of  scrolls  and  ro- 
settes in  Crete  that  we  find  in  Egypt.  We  find 
the  lotus  of  Egypt  and  the  palmette,  or  palm 
leaf,  of  Assyria  in  every  country;  sometimes 
modified,  oftentimes  used  in  a  way  which  shows 
that  the  origin  was  forgotten,  or  unknown.  We 
even  find  that  the  Assyrian  palmette  and  the 
Egyptian  lotus,  may  have  been  two  variations 
of  one  and  the  same  elementary  form. 


274    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

And  the  differences  between  the  styles  of  the 
different  nations  are  equally  easy  to  explain. 
They  are  due,  first,  to  differing  religious  and  so- 
cial ideals  of  life ;  second,  to  climate,  and  third, 
to  material.  There  was  in  the  autochthonous 
Greek  art  no  attempt  at  making  an  original  na- 
tional style ;  these  early  Greeks  merely  built  as 
their  needs  required  and  their  materials  sug- 
gested. For  their  decorative  details  they  bor- 
rowed right  and  left.  They  used  every  motive 
that  seemed  to  them  beautiful,  whatever  its  ori- 
gin, and  then,  because  they  were  more  skilful 
at  making  pictures  than  most  of  their  neigh- 
bours, and  because  they  enjoyed  it,  they  added 
to  the  borrowed  forms  certain  natural  forms 
which  they  loved :  fishes — particularly  the  octo- 
pus— bees,  and  great  long-horned  cattle. 

When  the  Hellenes — the  people  we  know  as 
Greeks — came  to  Greece  and  settled  it,  either 
peacefully  or  by  conquest,  they  gradually  ab- 
sorbed a  good  deal  of  the  aboriginal  art.  They 
were  a  people  of  different  origin,  perhaps  of 
different  race;  they  came  from  the  dim  North, 
a  people  whose  birth  is  lost  in  the  fog  of  the 
past;  but  they  found  in  the  goodly  peninsula 
which  they  came  to  inhabit  an  art  and  a  civili- 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE 


275 


zation  more  highly  developed,  in  some  ways, 
than  their  own.  And  this  they  did  not  scruple 
to  adopt  wherever  it  fitted  their  needs,  nor  did 
they  scruple  to  modify  it  to  suit  their  own  tra- 
ditions. The  result  of  this  amalgam  of  native 
and  foreign  influences  can  be  seen  not  only  in 


Early  Cypriote  Ionic  Capital. 

Fig.  25.  Many  similar  early  capitals  prove  the 
Ionic  capital  to  have  been  developed  from  Asiatic, 
non-Greek  origins. 

early  Greek  architecture,  but  in  Greek  mythol- 
ogy and  literature  as  well.  The  many  loves 
of  Zeus  may  be  but  idealized  stories  of  the  grad- 
ual combination  and  marriage  of  the  pure  Hel- 
lenic religion  with  all  the  old  local  religions; 
and  the  Doric  order,  though  theories  concern- 
ing its  origin  are  at  best  but  hypothetical,  seems 
probably  compounded  of  analogous  Hellenic  and 
aboriginal  traditions;  perhaps  the  column  is 


276    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

due  to  the  first,  and  the  entablature  to  the  sec- 
ond. Certain  it  is  that  there  are  resemblances 
between  the  Greek  Doric  entablatures  and  those 
used  by  the  prehistoric  peoples  before  them 
quite  as  strong  as  are  the  differences  between 
the  columns. 

But  Greek  architecture  is  more  than  the  Doric 
order.  The  Greeks  developed  the  Ionic  and  Cor- 
inthian orders  as  well,  and  both  of  these  seem 
to  have  been  non-Greek  in  origin.  That  they 
were  not  developed  to  any  very  great  extent  on 
Greek  soil  itself  until  comparatively  late  times, 
while  the  Doric  was  used  alone  and  unrivalled 
for  three  hundred  years,  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
during  those  years  the  Greeks  were  a  young 
people  occupied  in  settling  their  own  questions, 
and  always  confronted  by  the  fear  of  the  un- 
known peoples,  the  unknown  nations — the  Bar- 
haroL  After  the  Persian  wars,  when  the  East 
had  ceased  to  be  a  menace,  and  become  an  in- 
vitation, they  were  eager  enough  to  seize  upon 
and  develop  Eastern  art  motives.  No  fear  of 
losing  the  national  characteristics  of  their  art 
restrained  them  from  adopting  and  developing 
for  their  own  use  the  Ionic  capital — now  univer- 
sally recognized  as  of  Asiatic  origin — or  the 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  277 

dentils  of  Lydia,  or  recombining  the  lotus  and 
palm  leaf  forms  into  new  elements  of  beauty. 
For  all  the  Greeks  were  eager  always,  as  is 
truly  said  in  the  Book  of  the  Acts,  "  either  to 
tell  or  to  hear  some  new  thing;''  and  equally 
eager  to  adopt  whatever  pleased  them  and  de- 
velop it  in  their  own  way. 

Greek  architecture,  then,  which  is  held  up  as 
a  pure  national  style,  sincere  and  worthy  of 
our  emulation,  is  seen  on  analysis  to  be  a  de- 
velopment of  motives  coming  from  many  non- 
Greek  sources,  with  a  few  native  Greek  motives, 
all  combined  and  used  in  harmony  with  Greek 
life,  Greek  materials,  Greek  religion,  and  that 
overmastering  artistic  idealism  which  has  made 
Greek  art  what  it  is.  The  Greek  never  hesitated 
to  take  the  results  of  other  peoples'  develop- 
ment ;  he  borrowed  in  his  religion,  he  borrowed 
in  his  philosophy,  he  borrowed  in  his  art.  He 
modified  what  he  borrowed  not  because  of  any 
dogmatic  desire  to  make  his  art  a  national 
art,  but  because  he  could  always  make  his  bor- 
rowed motives  more  beautiful  by  modification. 

The  history  of  Roman  architecture  reveals 
the  same  underlying  method  of  development. 
The  Romans  came  into  contact  with  Greek  civili- 


278    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

zation  early  in  their  career  because  of  the  Greek 
colonies  in  Italy  and  Sicily  and  Greek  com- 
merce, which  flourished  at  that  time,  as  the 
quantities  of  Greek  vases  and  imitations  of 
them  that  are  found  in  Italy  testify.  Further- 
more, like  the  Hellenes,  the  Eomans  were  a 
people  who  were  occupied  in  their  first  few  hun- 
dred years  as  a  nation  by  their  own  affairs,  in 
wars,  and  in  social  and  political  development. 
Even  in  their  earlier  times,  however,  the  Eo- 
mans were  builders,  and  long  before  their  final 
architectural  development  they  had  acquired  no 
small  skill  in  building  itself,  in  arch  making, 
and  in  the  efficient  use  of  their  native  materials. 
And  the  Eomans  were  an  art-loving  people, 
keenly  sensitive  to  beauty.  The  rapidity  with 
which  they  assimilated  Greek  forms,  after 
years  of  provincialism,  bears  witness  to  that. 
Consequently,  when  at  last  internal  peace  and 
growing  wealth  brought  them  the  opportunity 
to  develop  their  fine  arts,  they  turned  for  in- 
spiration to  the  most  beautiful  buildings  they 
knew — the  Greek  buildings,  and  adopted  for 
their  own  use  the  Greek  forms  they  were  wise 
enough  to  love.  These  they  combined  with  their 
own   forms   and  the   closely  allied   Etruscan 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  279 

forms,  and  out  of  this  combination,  by  means 
of  their  building  skill,  evolved  their  own  won- 
derful Roman  architecture,  with  all  its  magnifi- 
cent qualities  of  bigness  and  large  conception 
and  careful  planning  and  rich  ornament,  a  com- 
bination of  qualities  before  unknown. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  go  far  into  the  criti- 
cism of  the  much  misunderstood  Roman  archi- 
tecture. Causes  and  methods  of  development 
alone  concern  us  here.  That  the  result — Roman 
imperial  architecture — was  a  strong  and  virile 
art,  intensely  expressive  of  every  side  of  that 
wonderful  empire — is  universally  admitted. 
The  critics  who  tco  strongly  attack  Roman  taste 
and  Roman  buildings  are  not — most  of  them — 
architects ;  they  are  mere  followers  in  the  tradi- 
tion of  attack  on  everything  connected  with  the 
Roman  Empire — a  tradition  started  by  a  Roman 
himself — that  supreme  Tory  and  reactionary, 
Tacitus. 

One  more  example  of  a  more  recent  develop- 
ment of  architectural  style  will  suffice.  When 
Charles  VIII,  and  later  Louis  XII  and  Francis 
I,  made  their  ill-fated  expeditions  into  Italy  to 
lay  claim  to  the  thrones  of  Naples  and  Milan, 
though  they  brought  back  no  spoils  of  material 


280    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

conquest,  they  did  bring  with  them  into  France 
a  tremendous  and  enthusiastic  admiration  for 
the  artistic  products  of  the  early  Italian  Renais- 
sance, which  was  just  in  the  first  flush  of  its 
exuberant  beauty.  They  brought  back,  too,  Ital- 
ian artisans  whose  work  was  eagerly  welcomed 
by  the  French  courtiers.  But  unlike  ancient 
Greece  and  Rome,  when  this  new  and  beautiful 
art  came  to  their  notice,  the  French  already  had 
a  magnificent  and  live  and  growing  national  ar- 
chitecture of  their  own.  The  flamboyant  Gothic 
of  the  Fifteenth  Century  France  was  too  dear 
to  French  hearts  to  yield  to  a  new  style  at  once ; 
too  deeply  filled  with  the  French  spirit  to  be  de- 
serted for  a  foreign  art  without  a  struggle. 

And  yet  the  grace  and  loveliness  of  the  newly 
discovered  Italian  decorative  work  appealed  ir- 
resistibly to  these  French  courtiers,  and  particu- 
larly to  Francis  I.  His  political  aspirations  in 
Italy  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  his 
enthusiasm  for  Italian  things ;  besides,  an  Ital- 
ian city  at  this  period  was  a  far  more  orderly 
and  civilized  place  than  the  usual  French  city, 
and  the  Italian  Renaissance  palaces  far  richer 
and  far  more  comfortable  than  the  contempor- 
ary French  chateaux,    Whatever  the  cause — po- 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  281 

litical  or  social  or  aesthetic,  and  probably  it 
was  a  combination  of  the  three — Francis  I  at 
once  set  about  building  in  the  new  style.  He  im- 
ported large  numbers  of  Italian  artists,  and 
treated  them  royally,  and  naturally  enough  his 
admirers  and  courtiers  strove  to  imitate  him  as 
far  as  they  were  able. 

Of  course,  no  absolute  reproduction  of  Ital- 
ian models  was  possible.  In  the  first  place, 
the  great  guild  of  native  stone  cutters  and  mas- 
ter builders,  all  bred  in  the  tradition  of  flam- 
boyant Gothic,  was  all-powerful,  and  it  was  but 
slowly  that  they  came  to  know  well  and  use 
correctly  the  Eenaissance  detail,  and  it  was 
years  before  they  came  to  adopt  the  style  in 
anything  beyond  detail — years  during  which 
the  whole  spirit  of  humanism  and  individual- 
ism, of  which  Renaissance  architecture  was  but 
one  side,  was  making  great  strides  in  France. 
France  has  always  been  a  rapidly  changing 
country,  given  to  idealistic  enthusiasms,  and  in 
the  years  from  the  death  of  Louis  XI  to  the  time 
of  Henry  IV,  it  grew  rapidly  in  homogeneity,  in 
national  spirit,  and  in  international  trade  and 
liberal  culture.  Had  this  change  not  taken 
place,  the  Renaissance  in  architecture  would 


282    THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

doubtless  have  been  but  a  momentary  flores- 
cence, a  mere  fad,  to  die  with  French  political 
aspirations  in  Italy,  and  the  French  would 
have  continued  for  years  and  centuries  longer 
to  build  according  to  the  Gothic  traditions  of 
their  building  guilds. 

But  French  growth  did  not  allow  this.  In- 
ternational communication  was  growing  rapidly 
in  amount,  travel  was  becoming  more  common, 
humanistic  culture  was  more  and  more  spread- 
ing over  Europe,  bringing  with  it  a  tremendous 
admiration  for  classic  accomplishment;  so  that 
the  delicate  and  lovely  mixture  of  classic  and 
Gothic  elements  which  is  the  style  of  Francis 
I,  and  which  is  so  full  of  the  charm  peculiar  to 
all  transitional  styles,  like  the  charm  of  Spring 
in  April,  died  not  into  a  recrudescence  of  Gothic, 
but  into  a  fuller  appreciation  of  classic  forms, 
and  a  firmer  touch  and  a  finer  skill  in  their  use. 
Even  with  the  growing  use  of  classical  forms, 
however,  there  was,  in  general,,  but  little  ap- 
proach to  those  forms  of  Italian  architecture 
which  were  the  first  inspiration  of  the  French 
Renaissance.  Climatic  requirements  are  the 
most  important  reason  for  this;  the  necessity 
in  cloudy  France  for  large  windows  and  steep 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  283 

roofs.*  In  addition,  there  was  a  certain  consti- 
tutional gaiety  and  exuberance  of  spirit  in  the 
French  people  that  found  in  cold  classicism  but 
an  imperfect  expression. 

It  was  the  result  of  all  these  tendencies  which 
made  French  Eenaissance  architecture  the 
strongly  national  style  it  is.  There  is  always 
a  frank  use  of  large  windows;  there  is  nearly 
always  a  steep  and  well-developed  roof:  there 
is  always  the  same  expression  of  the  intellectual 
classicism  and  the  exuberant  unrestraint  as 
well.  French  architecture  of  the  seventeenth 
century  was  a  national  style  not  because  the 
French  did  not  copy  for  fear  of  denationalizing 
their  art,  but  because  their  artists  were  true  to 
their  ideals,  copying  what  they  thought  beau- 
tiful, but  building  always  in  conformity  to  their 
conditions,  their  materials,  and  their  environ- 
ment. 

An  analysis  of  the  development  of  any  other 
historical  " style' $  will  reveal  the  same  in- 
fluences at  work.  It  will  reveal,  for  instance, 
Eomanesque  growing  out  of  Roman  and  Byzan- 
tine architecture,  and  Gothic  out  of  Roman- 
esque, not  through  any  sudden  revolution,  not 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  284,  and  compare  it  with 
the  Plate  opposite  page  158, 


284    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

through  any  impetuous  striving  for  originality, 
but  always  through  the  mere  efforts  of  the  ar- 
chitects and  builders  to  build  as  best  they  could 
under  differing  conditions  of  skill  and  the  dif- 
fering social  make-up  of  civilization.  In  every 
case  architects  have  copied  past  forms  and  for- 
eign forms  as  well  as  they  could,  when  these 
forms  seemed  beautiful,  and  in  every  case, 
nevertheless,  architectural  styles  grew  up  in- 
evitably national,  inevitably  expressive  of  the 
contemporary  life. 

Any  true  criticism  of  the  spirit  of  present- 
day  American  architecture  must  be  based  on  a 
similar  analysis  of  the  conditions,  both  past 
and  present,  which  have  influenced  the  broad 
streams  of  our  national  life  and  character.  And 
first  of  all,  one  must  note  a  certain  cosmopoli- 
tan quality  in  American  life.  At  its  birth  the 
United  States  was  but  an  unintegrated  collec- 
tion of  separate  states,  whose  inhabitants  were 
of  differing  social  classes,  from  differing  parts 
of  England,  with  differing  educations  and  ideals 
and  culture.  Furthermore,  there  was  added  a 
strong  French  influence  from  Canada,  and  later, 
directly  from  France,  due  to  French  sympathy 
for  the  young  country  which  had  just  revolted 
from  its  hereditary  enemy,  England.    Indeed, 


fj  -A 

J3  o 

C  <u 


^  o 

2* 


-i 

•-^ 

<u  o 
bp<u 

•  -  bo 

8.S 

»s 

S  e 


O  d 
O  w 


u  <u 
o  o 

rt  c 

"3  2 

85 ! 
"Sts 

C  U 
&  u 
C  g 

go 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  285 

it  was  not  until  years  after  the  Civil  War  that 
the  country  had  any  true  national  conscious- 
ness, and  to  this  day  local  loyalties  and  local 
consciousness  persist  in  all  parts  of  the  United 
States  which  make  any  centralized,  narrowly 
intellectual  attitude  impossible.  Local  provin- 
cialism has  preserved  us  to  a  large  extent  from 
the  dangers  of  national  provincialism. 

Furthermore,  it  must  be  remembered  that  this 
continent  was  settled  largely  by  people  coming 
from  a  country  that  had  a  strongly  developed 
architecture  of  its  own,  and  that  throughout 
those  years  when  InigQ  Jones,  Christopher 
Wren  and  their  followers  were  building  the  mas- 
terpieces of  English  Renaissance,  communica- 
tion between  England  and  the  American  colonies 
was  well  nigh  continuous.  The  English  colo- 
nists, therefore,  as  soon  as  they  were  able  to 
build,  built  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  style 
of  the  English  Renaissance  of  their  own  time. 
True,  they  modified  details  here  and  there,  be- 
cause they  were  compelled  to  work  so  largely 
in  wood,  instead  of  brick  and  stone,  but  there 
was  no  architecture  at  all  among  the  aboriginal 
Indians  which  they  could  adopt,  and  which 
might  thus  change  their  style. 

After  the  Revolution  there  was  little  attempt 


286     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

to  modify  this  style  in  order  to  give  it  a  na- 
tional significance.  Even  President  Washing- 
ton, enthusiastic  American  that  he  was,  had  no 
such  ideal  of  a  national  style  in  his  mind.  He 
had  a  Frenchman,  Major  L 'Enfant,  lay  out 
Washington  in  accordance  with  the  best  Euro- 
pean taste  and  skill  of  the  day;  and  the  oldest 
portion  of  the  present  national  Capitol  is  of  a 
severely  classic  type  quite  in  harmony  with  the 
contemporary  tradition  both  of  France  and 
England.  A  little  later  Thomas  Jefferson — a 
man  of  amazingly  broad  knowledge,  wide  cul- 
ture, and  of  no  little  artistic  skill — laid  still 
another  foundation  stone  for  the  tradition  of 
American  classicism.  It  has  been  definitely 
established  that  this  great  gentleman  was  him- 
self the  architect  of  the  University  of  Virginia 
at  Charlottesville,  and  of  the  original  state  Capi- 
tol at  Richmond ;  the  latter  being  built  from  de- 
signs which  he  made  as  modifications  of  the 
drawings  originally  made  for  the  building  by  a 
French  architect  or  draughtsman,  in  Paris, 
under  his  own  direction.  It  is  interesting  to  see 
how  in  all  his  work,  Thomas  Jefferson  was 
striving  in  wood  to  imitate,  or  simulate,  the  glor- 
ies of  Roman  architecture,  and  Italian  Renais- 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  287 

sance  architecture,  known  to  him  principally  by- 
means  of  architectural  books,  particularly  the 
great  work  of  Palladio.  In  other  words,  one  of 
the  earliest  of  real  American  architects,  who  was 
a  much-travelled  gentleman,  and  president  of 
the  United  States  as  well,  deliberately  strove  in 
all  his  work  to  imitate  the  beauties  of  a  past 
style  which  he  knew  and  appreciated  because 
it  seemed  to  him  beautiful.  It  is  little  wonder 
that  the  classical  tradition  so  founded  in  this 
country  has  never  entirely  perished. 

The  whole  trend  of  American  architecture 
was  thus  at  its  commencement  given  a  turn  in 
the  direction  of  a  classicism  similar  to  the  clas- 
sicism of  the  Koman  revival  and  the  later  Greek 
revival  in  Europe.  Similarly,  the  Gothic  re- 
vival in  England  had  its  reflection  in  this  coun- 
try;  producing  some  beautiful  churches,  such  as 
old  Trinity,  in  New  York  City;  but  producing  a 
great  deal  that  seems  to  us  very  unbeautiful; 
because  Gothic  detail  is  so  utterly  unsuited  to 
the  sort  of  wooden  building  that  was  commonly 
built  at  that  time.  American  architecture 
throughout  the  period  of  the  Civil  War  and  the 
period  of  reconstruction  was  a  dreary  waste; 
all  the  energy  of  the  country  seems  to  have  been 


288    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

absorbed,  first  by  the  terrible  strain  of  the  war, 
and  afterwards  by  the  sudden  industrial  and 
commercial  development  which  followed.  Dur- 
ing all  this  time,  however,  there  was  a  contin- 
uously increasing  flow  of  trade  and  culture  to 
and  from  Europe. 

The  last  quarter  of  the  Nineteenth  Century 
was  remarkable  for  a  sudden  awakening  of  ar- 
tistic taste  that  permeated  the  whole  country, 
and  modern  American  architecture,  as  distinct 
from  that  American  architecture  which  grew  di- 
rectly from  the  tradition  of  Thomas  Jefferson 
and  the  earlier  Colonial  builders,  may  be  said 
to  date  only  from  about  1875  or  '76,  the  year 
of  the  Centennial  Exposition  in  Philadelphia. 
But  this  same  quarter  century  was  also  remark- 
able for  two  other  important  features ;  first,  an 
enormous  influx  of  foreign  immigrants  from 
every  country  in  Europe,  and  second,  an  un- 
precedented amount  of  European  travel,  on 
the  part  of  an  ever-increasing  number  of  Ameri- 
cans. In  addition,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
the  thought  of  the  closing  years  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century  and  the  first  years  of  the  Twen- 
tieth Century  was  dominated  by  a  strongly  in- 
ternational cast.   International  congresses  of  all 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  289 

kinds  grew  more  and  more  common;  interna- 
tional finance  became  important;  lasting  inter- 
national peace  seemed  a  possibility,  and  almost 
a  probability.  In  other  words,  the  forty  years 
which  have  seen  the  development  of  modern 
American  architecture  have  been  years  dur- 
ing which  the  international  ideal  grew  and 
triumphed. 

The  effect  of  this  internationalism  upon  our 
American  art  can  be  readily  realized.  It  has 
made  our  artists,  and  especially  our  architects, 
eager  to  welcome  inspiration  from  any  quarter, 
especially  since  in  the  1870 's  American  art  had 
reached  such  a  low  ebb  and  inspiration  was  so 
totally  lacking.  In  other  words,  just  at  the  pe- 
riod when  the  awakening  artistic  taste  of  Amer- 
ica was  groping  vaguely  for  beauty,  Europe, 
with  all  its  stores  of  art  treasures  new  and  old, 
modern  and  ancient,  lay  especially  open  to 
Americans;  European  art  schools  welcomed 
American  students,  and  European  resorts  wel- 
comed American  tourists.  Naturally,  there- 
fore, it  was  from  Europe  that  the  American 
architects  drew  their  inspiration,  from  the  ther- 
mae of  Rome,  the  palaces  of  Florence  and  Ven- 
ice, the  chateaux  and  cathedrals  of  France,  the 


290    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

abbeys  and  manors  and  country  villages  of  Eng- 
land. In  drawing  inspiration  from  these  chan- 
nels, and  in  adopting  forms  developed  in  Eu- 
rope, our  architects  committed  no  artistic  sin; 
they  were  merely  following  the  same  methods 
that  the  architects  of  all  the  greatest  ages  have 
followed.  Beauty  is  an  architect's  aim  and 
beauty  is  a  quality  that  knows  neither  race  nor 
nation.  The  Cretan  copied  Egypt,  the  Hellene 
copied  the  Cretan,  the  Eoman  copied  the  Greek, 
the  Renaissance  copied  the  Roman,  the  modern 
architect  copies  them  all.  Greatness  or  badness 
in  architecture  depend  not  on  the  question  of 
originality  as  against  copying,  but  upon  the 
success  or  failure  of  an  architect  to  build  beau- 
tifully, to  solve  some  concrete  problem  in  har- 
mony with  conditions,  with  materials,  and  with 
the  ideals  of  contemporary  culture. 

Our  architects  must,  therefore,  adopt  the 
forms  of  past  styles  for  our  own  use,  as  long 
as  our  American  civilization  is  what  it  is  to- 
day. Our  architecture  must  be  based  on  the 
architecture  of  the  past  as  long  as  our  culture 
is  based  on  the  culture  of  the  past,  and  the  forms 
that  the  architects  copy  and  adopt  will  inevi- 
tably be  forms  developed  by  those  people  on 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  291 

whose  achievements  our  culture  is  based.  Just 
as  every  great  national  architecture  has  arisen 
through  years  of  slow  development,  never  blind- 
ing itself  to  the  past,  yet  never  losing  in  rever- 
ence for  the  past  the  call  of  new  problems  and 
new  human  needs  to  be  met,  so  must  American 
architecture  arise;  so  it  is  arising  before  our 
eyes.  Our  architects  are  not  using  Roman  or- 
ders or  Gothic  arches  because  they  are  too  in- 
efficient to  design  new  forms;  but  because  the 
forms  they  adopt  are  beautiful,  and  have  been 
so  judged  for  centuries.  With  our  history  and 
our  make-up  we  can  rightly  claim  any  of  the 
European  styles  as  our  own,  because  we  are 
able  to  understand  it.  More  than  any  other 
country  of  the  world  to-day,  the  United  States 
is  heir  to  all  styles,  and  all  cultures,  and  just 
as  Greek  philosophy  and  Roman  law,  and  Feud- 
alism, and  Renaissance  individualism,  and  the 
rationalism  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  have  all 
contributed  to  our  institutions — our  law,  our 
education,  our  religion,  our  political  economy — 
so  our  architecture  must  needs  be  based  on  the 
architecture  that  all  these  different  peoples  have 
developed. 
Nor  is  the  case  of  modern  America  analagous 


292    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

to  the  case  of  modern  Germany,  or  Austria,  or 
England,  where  separate  and  modern  national 
styles  seem  to  have  suddenly  developed  during 
the  last  twenty  years,  for  in  all  these  European 
countries  nationalism,  perhaps  even  chauvin- 
ism, has  been  far  more  deeply  cultivated,  and 
has  attained  a  far  more  luxuriant  growth  than 
would  be  possible  in  this  country.  Naturally 
enough,  this  great  development  of  national  feel- 
ing— one  of  the  most  outstanding  facts  of  recent 
European  history — has,  like  all  great  and 
deeply  felt  spiritual  movements,  been  expressed 
in  architecture,  and  the  particular  trend  that 
this  nationalistic  thought  has  taken  can  in  every 
case  be  read  plain  in  the  architecture  of  the 
countries  under  consideration.  Furthermore, 
those  critics  of  our  modern  American  architec- 
tural traditionalism  who  find  in  these  new  na- 
tional styles  of  Europe  examples  for  us  to  em- 
ulate, lose  sight  of  another  important  fact,  the 
fact  that  upon  analysis  these  new  nationalistic 
styles  lose  much  of  their  novelty ;  in  every  case 
their  elements  are  much  the  same  as  similar 
elements  in  styles  of  the  past.  For  example, 
the  modern  Teuton  development  in  architecture 
is,   perhaps,   the  best  known  of  the  modern 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  293 

styles,  with  a  splendid  list  of  works  to  its  credit ; 
fine  stores,  and  houses,  noble  town  halls,  and 
great  monuments ;  all  apparently  designed  in  an 
absolutely  new  and  original  way.  When  one  ex- 
amines them  in  detail,  however,  it  is  astounding 
how  exactly  similar  they  are  in  many  ways  to 
certain  buildings  of  the  German  Baroque ;  simi- 
lar in  a  love  for  long,  vertical  lines,  similar  in 
the  use  of  roof  surfaces,  similar  in  the  general 
feeling  for  relief.  The  Plate  opposite  page  294 
shows  a  little  hunting  lodge  which  is  exactly 
analogous  to  a  great  deal  of  the  work  of  the 
modern  German  Secession — in  reality  it  was 
built  early  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  by  a 
famous  Baroque  architect,  Johann  Conrad 
Schlaun. 

Similarly,  the  majority  of  the  modern  archi- 
tecture of  France  is  an  eclectic  style  that 
combines  elements  of  almost  all  the  French 
"styles"  from  Francis  I  to  Louis  XVI  and  the 
Empire.  France  is  fortunate  in  having  the 
great  tradition  of  the  Ecole  des  Beaux  Arts  to 
keep  always  alive  in  the  student  the  ideals  of 
the  architecture  of  its  great  past;  and  Art 
Nouveau  had  but  a  short  existence  as  a  con- 
trolling factor  in  French  architecture.     In  a 


294    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTUKE 

similar  manner,  the  best  modern  English  archi- 
tecture is  in  a  style  which  combines  elements 
from  all  the  English  styles,  and  especially  from 
Tudor  work,  and  the  earlier  English  Renais- 
sance. 

America,  to-day,  is  too  young  to  have  any 
national  styles  of  her  own  to  draw  on,  save  only 
the  Colonial — a  modified  form  of  the  later  Eng- 
lish classic,  and  to  a  less  extent  the  Spanish 
Renaissance.  Our  architects  deserve  a  great 
deal  of  credit  for  the  way  in  which  they  are 
making  an  ever-wider  use  of  these  two  styles. 
Examples  of  good  modern  buildings  in  an  adap- 
tation of  the  Colonial  styles  are  so  common 
throughout  the  East  that  specific  illustration 
seems  almost  futile.  There  is  something  about 
the  style  that  makes  it  peculiarly  well  adapted 
to  the  great  elms  and  wide  streets  that  are  the 
pride  of  the  smaller  eastern  towns  and  cities, 
particularly  when  it  is  used  in  a  town  where 
there  are  many  old  houses  and  churches,  and 
a  wealth  of  local  tradition.  Less  known,  but 
even  more  interesting,  are  the  increasingly 
numerous  buildings  in  California  and  the 
Southwest  in  which  an  attempt  has  been 
made  to  adapt  the  decorative  motives  of  the 
Spanish  Renaissance,  as  it  was  built  in  Amer- 


MERCHANTS   NATIONAL   BANK,    GRINNELL,   IOWA 

A  building  which  is  the  result  of  one  man's  temperament,   undisciplined  by 
tradition.     Such  a  building  almost  always  appears  somewhat  "outlandish." 


HUNTING   LODGE,    CLEMENSWERTH,    GERMANY 


This  lodge,  built  in  the  eighteenth  century,  shows  that  modern  German 
"Secession"  architects  are  merely  maintaining  traditions  of  long  standing.  See 
page  293. 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  295 

ica — the  " Mission' '  style — to  modern  uses. 
There  are  a  number  of  beautiful  houses  in  Cali- 
fornia which  are  entirely  successful  in  this 
adaptation  of  a  beautiful  style  which  has  been 
so  travestied  and  caricatured  by  cheap  build- 
ers in  the  Middle  West  and  East  as  to  have 
fallen  into  considerable  disfavour.  That  the 
style  may  be  used  successfully  for  large  public 
buildings,  too,  is  proved  by  the  the  railroad  sta- 
tion at  San  Diego.  At  their  best,  however,  these 
styles  are  not  sufficiently  wide  in  their  possibil- 
ities to  fill  all  our  physical  and  aesthetic  needs 
and  there  are  great  portions  of  the  country 
where  climatic  or  historical  factors  make  both 
seem  out  of  place. 

There  is  but  one  other  possible  source  of 
purely  American  inspiration.  Some  of  the  In- 
dian tribes  far  in  the  southwest,  in  Mexico  and 
Central  America,  had  developed  long  ago  build- 
ing forms  of  some  beauty  and  magnificence. 
This  grotesque  art,  however,  born  of  priest- 
ruled,  barbaric  peoples,  who  worshipped  ter- 
rible gods  with  human  sacrifices,  is  far  too  alien 
to  our  taste  ever  to  appear  beautiful,  and  any 
attempt  to  adapt  it  to  our  use  is  manifestly 
absurd. 

But  in  general,  the  architect  should  forget 


296    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

" style"  altogether.  The  architect  who  seeks  a 
new  and  original  American  " style"  is  as  much 
at  fault  as  he  who  sticks  to  Roman  or  Gothic  at 
all  costs;  his  work  may  be  interesting,  it  may 
be  significant,  but  often  it  is  less  in  touch  with 
peoples'  needs,  less  truly  beautiful,  than  saner 
and  less  imaginative  work.*  Whatever  our 
attitude  on  the  style  question  may  be,  whether 
it  be  conservatism,  like  that  of  Christopher 
Wren,  who  wrote  over  two  hundred  years 
ago,  "It  is  necessary  for  the  architect  in  a  con- 
spicuous work  to  preserve  his  undertaking  from 
general  censure,  and  so  for  him  to  accommo- 
date his  designs  to  the  Geist  of  the  age  he  lives 
in,  though  it  appear  to  him  less  rational";  or 
whether  it  be,  on  the  other  hand,  the  radicalism 
of  the  critic  who  wishes  that  every  architectural 
book  and  photograph  in  the  country  might  be 
destroyed  so  that  we  might  start  anew — what- 
ever our  attitude  may  be,  we  think  altogether 
too  much  about  ■ '  style. ' ' 

For  one  may  rest  assured  that  style  is  but  a 
means,  and  that  beauty  is  the  end  in  quest.  Let 
our  architects,  then,  and  our  laymen,  too,  stop 
all  their  futile  arguments  about  style,  about 
Art  Nouveau  or  Seccessionism,  or  the  good 

*  See  the  Plate  opposite  page  294. 


THE  MEANING  OF  STYLE  297 

old  traditions,  or  the  Roman  or  the  Gothic; 
for  the  truest  way  to  a  national  style  is  through 
a  sincere  attempt  to  gain  beauty  in  a  simple 
way,  and  the  architect  who  designs  carefully 
and  thoughtfully,  taking  care  to  fulfill  every 
smallest  demand  which  his  problem  makes,  and 
decorates  the  result  in  the  most  beautiful  way 
at  his  command,  whether  the  decorative  motives 
he  uses  are  created  by  him  or  adapted  from  the 
past,  is  doing  more  to  make  American  archi- 
tecture a  glorious  expression  of  national  life 
than  generations  of  theorizing  critics. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE  SOCIAL  VALUE   OF  ARCHITECTURE 

One  of  the  most  important  movements  in  the 
entire  field  of  modern  thought  has  been  the 
"socialization  of  consciousness'';  that  is,  a 
gradual  widening  in  the  scope  of  popular 
thought,  which  has  been  reflected  in  every  kind 
of  human  endeavour.  The  individual  is  grow- 
ing less  and  less  satisfied  with  the  consideration 
merely  of  the  things  that  concern  him  alone, 
more  and  more  he  is  coming  to  feel  himself  con- 
sciously a  part  of  the  fascinating  and  complex 
tissue  of  life ;  he  is  beginning  to  appreciate  that 
his  life  is  so  closely  bound  up  with  the  lives 
of  his  fellows,  and  their  lives  knit  by  such  a 
multiplicity  of  ties  to  his,  that  he  must  settle  all 
really  important  questions  not  by  their  effect  on 
himself  alone,  but  by  their  effect  on  the  total 
life  of  the  community.  The  Mediaeval  or  Ren- 
aissance moralist  began  with  the  individual  soul, 
and  worked  from  that  to  the  ideal  community; 
the  modernist,  on  the  other  hand,  starts  with 

298 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  299 

the  ideal  community  and  works  back  to  the  in- 
dividual soul. 

This  new  attitude  has  furnished  the  world 
with  an  entirely  new  set  of  criteria  by  which 
to  judge  not  only  personal  conduct,  but  also  the 
religion  and  the  arts  of  the  present  day,  and 
this  judgment  is  going  on  continuously  and  with 
a  ruthless  earnestness.  Architecture  must 
stand  or  fall  in  popular  estimation  according 
to  the  manner  in  which  it  undergoes  this  judg- 
ment, and  by  some  it  is  condemned,  for  in  villa 
or  great  church,  in  library  or  city  house,  some 
critics  see  only  the  working  of  the  traditional 
and  outgrown  individualism,  and  in  the  archi- 
tect they  see  nothing  but  a  panderer  to  the 
false  culture  of  a  pleasure-loving  plutocracy. 
The  critics  who  condemn  our  architecture  in 
this  way  are  judging  the  whole  art  by  a  few  in- 
dividual architects.  It  is  true  that  there  are 
certain  architects  who  may  be  so  judged  and 
so  condemned ;  but  the  art  itself  is  greater  than 
any  of  those  who  practise  it,  and  the  great  ma- 
jority of  American  architects  are  more  truly 
alive  to  the  social  bearing  of  their  profession, 
and  its  unique  social  value,  than  are  most  of 
their  critics. 


300    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

Architecture  is,  in  fact,  the  greatest  and  most 
real  of  all  the  arts,  precisely  because  it  has  this 
unique  social  message,  this  tremendous  social 
value.  And  this  is  necessarily  so,  because  of 
the  very  nature  of  the  art  itself ;  because  of  its 
dual  nature,  its  double  basis  on  practical  needs 
and  aesthetic  ideals.  Every  real  change  in  pop- 
ular sentiment  will  inevitably  react  on  both 
these  factors,  and  through  them  on  architecture, 
for  every  real  change  in  popular  sentiment, 
when  once  it  permeates  the  core  of  community 
life,  must  produce  changes  in  the  daily  needs 
of  the  people,  just  as  surely  as  it  must  modify 
to  some  extent  the  popular  concept  of  beauty. 

This  is  particularly  true  when  the  change  is 
one  so  deep  in  its  penetration  into  the  very 
heart  of  life,  and  so  wide  in  its  scope,  as  the 
present  change,  which  must  affect  everything 
one  does  or  thinks;  a  change  which  has  pro- 
duced socialism  and  settlement  houses,  model 
suburbs  and  public  playgrounds.  The  social- 
ized conscience,  for  instance,  has  produced  new 
ideals  of  housing,  of  sanitation,  of  factory  ar- 
rangement, of  city  planning,  and  all  of  these 
have  a  direct  bearing  upon  the  art  of  architec- 
ture, because  they  present  new  problems  in  the 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    301 

buildings  which  the  architect  is  called  upon  to 
design. 

In  the  main,  modern  architects  appreciate  and 
welcome  these  new  problems.  It  is  not  upon 
them  that  the  blame  must  be  laid  for  the  slow 
realization  of  the  social  ideal  in  modern  build- 
ings. They  are  ever  alert  to  the  changing  needs 
of  the  public;  housing  competitions  and  the 
like  are  frequent,  and  architectural  thought  is 
eagerly  assailing  these  new  problems,  and 
eagerly  creating  new  ideals  to  realize.  But, 
unlike  painter  or  sculptor  or  writer,  the  archi- 
tect needs  more  than  his  own  thought  and  his 
own  skill  to  create  works  of  art.  The  architect's 
mission  is  not  fulfilled  by  dreams  or  great 
schemes,  it  is  only  fulfilled  by  actual  buildings, 
constructed  and  in  use.  And  to  embody  the 
ideas  which  he  has  developed  requires  often  a 
large  amount  of  money.  It  requires  people  to 
build,  people  who  are  ready  to  appreciate  the 
merits  of  new  schemes  and  to  pay  for  them.  As 
long  as  speculative  builders  and  real  estate  op- 
erators are  content  to  build  cheap  and  ill-de- 
signed buildings  because  there  is  great  profit 
in  this  evil  trade,  just  so  long,  no  matter  how 
hard  the  architect  thinks  about  new  ideals,  and 


302     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

no  matter  how  perfect  are  the  solutions  his 
brain  devises  for  the  new  problems,  will  the 
social  ideal  be  thwarted  in  architecture,  and  our 
cities  remain  chaotic,  unbeautiful,  depress- 
ing monuments  of  an  inexcusable  avarice.  Good 
design  costs ;  high  ideals  must  be  paid  for ;  and 
until  people  are  educated  beyond  the  wild  and 
thoughtless  rush  for  abnormal  dividends  at  any- 
cost  of  beauty  and  health,  it  is  discouragingly 
futile  to  hope  for  great  improvements.  If  our 
architecture  is  to  be  blamed  for  not  realizing 
the  immense  importance  of  socialized  effort  at 
the  present  day,  the  blame  must  rest  not  upon 
the  architect,  but  upon  that  small  minority  who 
are  determined  to  build  as  cheaply  and  as 
thoughtlessly  as  the  law  allows,  because  there 
is  easy  wealth  for  them  in  the  process. 

It  is  significant  in  this  matter  that  one  of  the 
first  to  realize  in  an  agony  of  spirit  the  terrible 
injustice  and  ruthless  cruelty  of  the  new  in- 
dividualistic industrialism  was  also  one  of  the 
best  known  of  architectural  critics,  John  Kuskin. 
In  a  lecture  before  the  Koyal  Institute  of  Brit- 
ish Architects,  after  an  interesting  discussion  of 
architectural  education,  occurs  this  passage: 
"Pardon  me  that  I  speak  despondingly.    For 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  303 

my  part,  I  feel  the  force  of  mechanism  and  the 
fury  of  avaricious  commerce  to  be  at  present 
so  irresistible  that  I  have  seceded  from  the 
study  not  only  of  architecture,  but  nearly  of  all 
art ;  and  have  given  myself  as  I  would  in  a  be- 
sieged city,  to  seek  the  best  modes  of  getting 
bread  and  water  for  the  multitudes,  there  re- 
maining no  question,  it  seems  to  me,  of  other 
than  such  grave  business  for  the  time." 

Euskin  saw  architecture  one-sidedly;  to  his 
acute  insight  and  powerful  ethical  sense,  there 
was,  therefore,  little  place  in  life  for  the  archi- 
tect ;  poverty  and  misery  were  calling  too  poig- 
nantly for  relief  on  all  sides.  But  to  Euskin 
architecture  meant  decoration  and  ornament, 
and  the  architect  was  primarily  a  decorator, 
and  it  is  this  misconception  which  gives  such  a 
sad  and  discouraged  tone  to  this  passage.  To 
the  modern  architect,  who  realizes  that  decora- 
tion is  but  one  of  several  sides  of  his  great  art, 
the  call  of  poverty  and  misery  is  only  an  in- 
spiration to  a  more  careful  exercise  of  his  skill, 
and  a  more  absolute  devotion  to  his  profes- 
sion. 

v^  The  first  great  value  which  the  art  of 
architecture  has  for  the  commonwealth  lies  in 


304    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

the  fact  that  true  architecture  is  entirely  de- 
voted to  the  sincere  attempt  to  solve  in  the  best 
practical  way  possible  all  the  various  problems 
set  before  it  by  every  building  which  it  is  to 
design.  The  implications  of  this  are  extremely 
far  reaching.  Not  only  does  the  individual 
architect,  by  the  careful  design  of  each  build- 
ing, thus  improve  the  conditions  under  which 
the  users  of  the  building  live,  or  work,  as  the 
case  may  be,  but  in  addition,  the  gradually 
growing  number  of  such  carefully  designed 
buildings  raises  the  entire  standard  of  taste  in 
the  nation,  slowly,  it  is  true,  but  irresistibly. 

The  modern  school  house  is  a  concrete  ex- 
ample of  how  architecture  supplies  the  practical 
necessities  engendered  by  the  new  social  con- 
science, and  at  the  same  time  raises  the  stand- 
ard of  public  taste.  The  ordinary  city  school 
house  of  thirty  years  ago  was,  as  a  general  rule, 
an  unbeautiful,  unhealthy  affair,  with  close,  un- 
ventilated  rooms,  dark  corridors,  and  danger- 
ous wooden  stairs ;  a  gloomy  place  of  brick  out- 
side and  coarse  wooden  trim  in,  where  the  chil- 
dren were  herded  together  in  a  most  unhealthy 
and  uninspiring  way.  Since  that  time  awaken- 
ing social  consciousness  allows  no  more  such 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    305 

blots  on  our  streets;  public  opinion  will  no 
longer  stand  school  houses  which  are  not  light 
and  well  ventilated  and  safe.  The  modern 
school  house  is  airy  and  conveniently  arranged, 
and  often  the  most  carefully  thought  out  build- 
ing in  the  community.  For  this  state  of  things 
the  architect  is  directly  responsible.  Even  be- 
fore public  opinion  had  awakened  to  the  horrors 
of  dirty  and  dangerous  schools,  the  architect 
had  devoted  a  great  deal  of  thought  to  the  prob- 
lem, as  many  of  the  older  schools,  when  de- 
signed by  good  architects,  testify.  The  true 
architect  is  never  content  with  following  the 
minimum  requirements  of  the  law,  as  the  mere 
builder  is  too  often  content.  The  true  architect 
is  always  puzzling  over  his  problems,  and  ap- 
plying all  his  expert  knowledge  and  skill  to  pro- 
ducing buildings  that  shall  not  only  satisfy  pub- 
lic taste,  but,  as  nearly  as  possible,  shall  em- 
body the  high  ideal  of  the  building  that  exists  in 
his  own  mind.  If  his  building  does  not  far  sur- 
pass the  minimum  requirements  of  the  law  and 
of  popular  opinion,  in  convenience,  in  efficiency, 
in  sanitation,  in  beauty,  and  in  safety,  the  archi- 
tect feels  that  he  has  failed.  The  mental  result 
is  the  raising  of  the  taste  of  the  community  to 


306    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

a  new  level;  for  good  things  which  the  public 
has  once  enjoyed,  it  is  very  loathe  to  part  with. 
The  material  result,  also,  is  immeasurable.  New 
York  City's  newer  schools  are  a  wonderful  civic 
possession,  and  so  are  the  schools  in  a  thousand 
different  towns  and  cities,  all  because  in  them 
architects  have  striven  to  do  their  work  sin- 
cerely and  well.  Particularly  in  California  has 
the  school  architecture  risen  to  a  high  level  of 
public  service,  because  there  the  community 
conscience  seems  to  have  been  developed  to  an 
unusual  degree,  and  bcause  economic  conditions 
and  the  moderate  climate  have  given  the  archi- 
tect a  greater  freedom  to  build  according  to  his 
ideals.  If  education  is  the  great  hope  of  pro- 
gressive democracy,  surely  in  building  the 
many- windowed  and  efficient  schools  of  New 
Y'ork  or  St.  Louis,  or  the  invitingly  delightful, 
wide-spreading,  one-storied  schools  of  Califor- 
nia, American  architects  have  performed  a  con- 
spicuous public  service,  and  architecture  has 
been  truly  the  expression  of  the  awakening  so- 
cial conscience  of  the  nation. 

During  the  last  twenty  years  there  has  been 
an  even  greater  improvement  in  housing  con- 
ditions, for  which  the  architect  is  responsible. 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OP  ARCHITECTURE   307 

We  are  in  the  habit  of  thinking  of  our  city  slums 
as  rather  terrible  places  even  now;  but  if  we 
could  picture  them  as  they  were  thirty  years 
ago,  we  should  realize  what  progress  has  been 
made  in  bettering  the  living  conditions  of  the 
poor.  It  is  true  that  architects  are  not  respon- 
sible for  all  the  improvements,  but  it  is  equally 
true  that  architecture  has  not  lagged  behind. 
And  for  very  many  improvements  architecture 
is  directly  responsible.  The  * '  open-stair ' '  tene- 
ment, one  of  the  greatest  steps  forward  in  tene- 
ment design,  in  which  all  interior  public 
corridors  are  abandoned;  the  careful  arrange- 
ment of  tenement  units  so  as  to  give  well-venti- 
lated light  courts  that  are  real  courts,  airy  and 
capacious  and  pleasant,  and  the  gradual  recla- 
mation of  the  waste  roofs ;  all  these  are  changes 
which  architects  have  initiated.  These  are  real 
reforms,  and  it  is  only  the  tremendous  increase 
in  population  among  the  least  educated  people 
which  makes  it  possible  still  to  fill  the  terrible 
old  "dumb-bell"  flats,  with  their  dark  and 
dreary  rooms,  their  six-story  air  shafts,  two  or 
three  feet  wide,  and  their  indecent  and  dirty 
sanitary  arrangements.  Before  these,  again, 
were  the  utterly  terrible  holes  in  which  the  poor 


308    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

of  the  early  Nineteenth  Century  had  to  live; 
holes  the  like  of  which  one  may  conceive  from 
the  labyrinthine  alleys  of  parts  of  Liverpool  or 
Naples  or  eastern  London,  vast  areas  of  un- 
planned hovels  and  unkempt  courts,  black,  fear- 
fully unhealthy,  without  adequate  water,  with- 
out any  attempt  at  sanitation,  reeking  hotbeds 
of  disease  and  vice  and  despair,  into  which  were 
crowded  all  the  unfortunate  castaways  of  com- 
mercial individualism. 

Now  that  misery,  at  least,  has  gone,  or  is  fast 
passing.  Many  of  the  European  cities  have 
made  enormous  strides  in  recent  years  in  doing 
away  with  the  unspeakable  conditions  under 
which  their  poor  lived.  In  this  fine  work  Ger- 
many and  England  are  in  the  lead,  and  city  after 
city  has  condemned  wholesale  great  blocks  of 
unsanitary  courts  and  alleys,  and  replaced  them 
with  new  and  better  houses.  The  statistics  are 
amazing.  Between  1875  and  1908,  for  instance, 
the  city  of  London  condemned  and  cleared  one 
hundred  and  four  acres  of  fearful  slums,  Bir- 
mingham ninety-three  acres,  Leeds  seventy-five, 
Glasgow  eighty-eight,  and  so  forth.  Our  cities 
have  much  to  learn  from  European  cities  in  this 
respect;  in  Europe  civic  consciousness  is  so 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    309 

alive  and  civic  pride  so  alert  that  improvements 
are  possible  that  stagger  us.  And  these  im- 
provements are  largely  due  to  the  architects. 
It  is  architecture  that  must  arrange  for  the 
housing  of  all  the  people  rendered  homeless  by 
the  condemnation  of  their  hovels ;  it  is  architec- 
ture which  must  design  new  tenements  which 
shall  not  only  satisfy  but  transcend  the  most 
stringent  requirements  of  the  law. 

If,  as  it  appears,  our  people  and  our  civic 
governments  here  in  America  have  been  behind 
the  times  and  timid  in  their  treatment  of  the 
housing  needs  of  our  cities,  our  architects — and 
by  architects  is  meant  not  merely  building  de- 
signers, but  men  who  live  up  to  the  noble  tradi- 
tions and  the  high  responsibilities  of  their  art — 
cannot  be  likewise  blamed,  for  where  they  have 
had  opportunities  to  build  tenements,  they  have 
produced  buildings  which  will  bear  comparison 
with  any  in  Europe  in  sanitation,  in  conven- 
ience, in  beauty,  and  in  economy.  Indeed,  in 
some  ways  they  have  set  a  standard  that  far 
surpasses  the  European  standard;  as,  for  in- 
stance, in  the  matter  of  bathrooms.  New  York 
in  1904  had  the  terrible  total  of  three  hundred 
and  sixty-two  thousand  dark  interior  rooms; 


310    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

but  New  York  now  has  probably  a  larger  num- 
ber of  bathrooms  than  any  other  city  in  the 
world,  and  bathrooms  whose  average  conven- 
ience and  cleanliness  are  a  wonder  to  foreign- 
ers. A  great  deal  of  the  progress  which  our 
housing  laws  have  made  is  attributable  to  ar- 
chitecture, too.  The  public  opinion  of  the  ar- 
chitectural profession  is  very  powerful,  and 
organized  as  it  is  in  architectural  societies  all 
over  the  country,  it  has  no  little  influence  over 
legislation.  Every  architectural  society  has 
committees  which  devote  a  great  deal  of  time 
to  legislative  matters ;  which  examine  every  law 
proposed  that  can  have  any  bearing  whatsoever 
upon  building ;  which  are  always  discussing  san- 
itation and  fire  prevention  and  building  codes, 
and  by  means  of  public  agitation  and  education 
striving  always  to  raise  building  standards  in 
this  country  in  every  respect,  both  as  regards 
safety  and  beauty. 

If  architecture  has  been  successful  in  better- 
ing living  conditions  in  modern  cities,  it  has 
been  even  more  so  in  the  suburbs.  Here,  again, 
Germany  and  England  have  taken  the  lead,  so 
that  the  contrast  between  the  carelessly  planned 
and  poorly  built   suburbs   of  the   first  half 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  311 

of  the  century  and  the  model  houses  that  have 
been  built  during  the  last  ten  years  is  very  strik- 
ing. There  is  nothing  much  more  depressing, 
for  instance,  than  the  average  English  suburb 
of  fifty  years  ago,  street  after  street  exactly 
alike,  lined  with  ugly  houses — ' '  semi-detached 
villas" — each  of  dirty,  blackened  brick,  without 
distinction,  utterly  undesigned,  and  brooded 
over  always  by  tiers  of  great  factory  stacks, 
gaunt  and  stark  against  a  grey  sky,  stacks  that 
belch  endlessly  torrents  of  black  smoke  which 
the  wind  smudges  across  the  clouds.  Such  a 
suburb  is  as  dreary,  as  uninteresting,  as  cursed 
with  colourless  anaemia,  as  the  flat,  stale  life  it 
produces.  It  is  dull  with  a  cruel  and  despair- 
ing hopelessness.  Such  suburbs  one  may  see 
still  from  the  car  windows  as  the  train  rushes 
through  the  ragged  skirts  of  southern  London, 
or  through  the  busy  black  country  of  the  Mid- 
lands, or  through  certain  towns  in  our  own  New 
England  or  Pennsylvania.  The  new  model  su- 
burbs of  Germany  and  England  are  as  famous 
for  their  excellence  as  the  old  suburbs  are  noto- 
rious for  their  squalor,  and  a  visit  to  the  Hamp- 
stead  Garden  Suburb  near  London  or  to  the 
Krupp  villages  near  Essen  is  a  revelation  to 


312    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

many  an  American.  It  is  noteworthy  that  ar- 
chitects have  designed  these  new  and  beautiful 
villages,  and  that  it  is  to  architecture  that  is 
due  to  a  large  extent  the  improvement  in  subur- 
ban housing.  Lately,  this  country  has  begun  to 
awaken  to  the  sordidness  of  our  American  sub- 
urbs, and  manufacturers  have  begun  to  build 
on  their  own  account  new  and  pleasant  villages 
for  their  employees,  realizing  that  in  improved 
living  conditions  lie  advantages  not  only  for 
the  employee,  but  for  the  employer  as  well. 

There  are  a  thousand  symptoms  that  archi- 
tects have  not  been  blind  to  the  opportunities 
presented  their  art  in  this  respect.  The  im- 
proved housing  now  being  built  in  Washington 
as  a  memorial  to  the  late  Mrs.  Wilson  from  de- 
signs that  were  the  product  of  a  housing  com- 
petition is  but  one  of  many  schemes  which  show 
that  architectural  thought  is  at  last  bearing 
fruit  in  executed  work,  and  that  there  has  been 
a  real  beginning  in  making  our  cities  and  their 
suburbs  comfortable  and  safe  and  healthy,  even 
for  the  very  poor — a  beginning  that  is  bound 
to  grow  more  and  more  quickly  and  bear  ever 
more  fruit  which  shall  be  increasingly  valuable 
to  the  life  of  the  commonwealth. 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    313 

Nor  are  convenience  and  the  filling  of  obvious 
practical  needs  the  only  social  services  which 
architecture  performs.  The  dual  idealism  which 
the  architect  should  always  possess,  which 
makes  him  alert  to  practical  requirements,  and 
at  the  same  time  always  avid  of  beauty,  pre- 
vents him  from  ever  being  satisfied  with  merely 
crudely  necessary  results,  however  perfectly 
convenient.  The  true  architect,  like  every  true 
artist,  sees  life  in  a  manner  too  broad  and  too 
keen  to  allow  that.  He  sees  life  as  a  matter  of 
ideals  as  well  as  of  bread  and  butter ;  he  is  al- 
ways alert  to  the  large  place  which  beauty  must 
have  in  making  any  life  rich  and  full.  He  real- 
izes how  a  starved  yearning  for  beauty  is 
twisted  and  perverted  to  find  unhealthy  expres- 
sion in  all  sorts  of  vice  and  crime.  He  realizes 
concretely  that  a  passionate  need  for  beauty  is 
innate  in  the  very  tissue  of  every  life,  and  that 
it  is  a  real  need,  coextensive  with  the  need  for 
health  and  life  itself,  and  as  definitely  requiring 
satisfaction  to  produce  a  sane  and  happy  com- 
monwealth. 

The  tragedy  of  the  slum  lies  almost  as  much 
in  its  ugliness  as  in  its  crowded  and  unhealthy 
conditions.    In  fact,  the  two  qualities  are  in- 


314    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

separably  connected.  The  gaunt  and  terrible 
ugliness  of  the  typical  American  manufactur- 
ing town  sheds  perpetually  a  subtle,  baneful  in- 
fluence, all  the  more  dangerous  because  so  im- 
palpable, upon  the  life  of  that  town,  adding 
always  to  class  hatreds,  piling  always  inflam- 
mable fuel  on  the  hot  fires  of  envy  and  greed 
and  rebellion ;  an  influence  more  potent  than  is 
usually  realized  in  arousing  the  angry  heart  of 
strife,  in  turning  boys  to  drink  and  drugs,  in 
speeding  girls  into  the  life  where  a  flashy  and 
temporary  luxury  burns  with  a  false  beauty  and 
attractiveness  for  a  brief  span  and  dies  into  an 
unutterably  terrible  tragedy  of  disease  and  dis- 
illusion and  death.  Could  we  but  substitute  for 
the  raw  wildness  of  a  western  mining  town  or 
the  slipshod  squalor  of  the  ordinary  factory 
centre  in  the  East  some  semblance  of  order  and 
beauty,  the  results  in  an  increased  orderliness 
and  sanity  of  popular  life  would  be  amazing. 

Experience  has  shown  that  this  is  no  idle  and 
baseless  assertion.  It  is  the  ever-increasing 
movement  in  Germany  to  surround  the  employ- 
ees of  the  great  industrial  firms  with  beauty 
which  is  responsible  in  no  small  degree  for  the 
industrial  and  national  solidarity  of  the  Ger- 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    315 

man  people  so  evident  to-day.  It  is  the  fact 
that  the  poor  of  the  older  continental  cities  of 
Europe,  however  miserable,  live  in  the  midst  of 
a  beauty  which  is  the  legacy  of  the  architecture 
of  all  the  past,  that  has  enabled  them  to  live  a 
life  in  many  ways  richer,  fuller  and  more  spirit- 
ual than  the  common  life  of  their  much  more 
prosperous  American  co-workers.  The  emo- 
tional effect  of  beautiful  buildings,  however  un- 
consciously felt,  is  never  lost,  and  a  civic 
consciousness  truly  alert  must  feel  the  need  of 
beauty  as  strongly  as  it  is  cognizant  of  the  need 
for  health. 

And  if  one  beautiful  building  has  an  import- 
ant effect  upon  those  who  see  it,  how  much  more 
powerful  is  the  effect  of  a  city  of  beautiful 
buildings !  The  architectural  perfection  of  Ath- 
ens under  Pericles  was  not  only  a  symptom,  it 
was,  as  well,  a  cause  of  the  well-ordered  and 
happy  life  of  the  Athenian  commonwealth.  So 
the  beauty  and  imposing  grandeur  of  Home 
under  Trajan  and  Hadrian  were  not  only  a 
symptom,  but  a  cause  of  the  gradual  breakdown 
of  the  Tory  aristocracy  of  the  Republic  and  the 
early  Empire,  and  the  gradual  acquisition  by  the 
whole  people — save  the  slaves — of  civic  rights 


316     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

and  an  intellectual  and  artistic  culture,  as  evi- 
denced by  the  little  town  of  Pompeii,  for  exam- 
ple, a  condition  which  alone  made  possible,  after 
centuries  of  racial  struggle  and  political  disin- 
tegration, what  culture  there  was  during  the 
Dark  Ages,  and  which  laid  a  foundation  that, 
growing  through  the  Middle  Ages,  carefully 
nourished  in  the  monasteries,  blossomed  with 
such  beauty  in  the  Eenaissance,  and  produced 
so  infinitely  much  valuable  to  us  in  every  side 
of  human  activity. 

The  great  age  of  Gothic  architecture  was 
equally  a  symptom  and  equally  a  cause  of  the 
religious  sentiment  of  the  Thirteenth  Century; 
more  than  that,  the  great  cathedrals  of  France 
became  the  rallying  places  of  the  people,  and 
thus  helped  the  solidifying  of  popular  sen- 
timent against  the  feudal  barons.  In  the 
gradual  growth  of  cities  around  these  great 
churches,  cities  nestling  as  close  as  possible  to 
their  tall,  grey,  many-buttressed  sides,  can  be 
seen  in  some  small  measure  the  inspiration 
which  the  people  drew  then,  and  still  draw,  from 
the  beautiful  might  of  their  great  architecture. 

It  is  more  difficult  to  trace  the  effect  of  beauty 
upon  us  moderns.    Our  lives  are  more  complex, 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  317 

our  spirits  less  naive,  more  skeptical,  less 
ready  to  yield  to  the  stimulus  of  beautiful  art. 
It  is  especially  difficult  to  realize  the  social  effect 
of  beauty  here  in  America,  for  the  puritanism 
under  the  spell  of  whose  austerity  large  por- 
tions of  this  country  were  settled  has  left  traces 
of  itself  even  now;  traces  in  whose  influences 
are  strangely  commingled  good  and  evil — sane 
thought  and  unhealthy  repression,  a  stern  moral 
sense  and  an  unreasoning  suspicion  of  all  that 
is  beautiful.  But  it  would  be  an  utter  falsehood 
to  deny  the  effect  of  beautiful  surroundings  on 
our  people.  The  study  of  psychology  has  estab- 
lished the  close  connection  between  aesthetic 
pleasure  and  certain  signs  of  mental  and  moral 
health.  To  cite  a  simple  case,  in  the  mere  eye 
rest  and  repose  which  a  simple  and  beautiful 
building  furnishes,  there  is  a  distinct  source  of 
true  health  and  happiness,  and  a  distinct  in- 
fluence towards  the  thinking  of  sane  and  beau- 
tiful thoughts. 

One  may  well  rest  assured,  therefore,  that 
architecture  is  performing  a  noble  public  ser- 
vice in  creating  beautiful  buildings  as  well  as  in 
making  them  well  built  and  convenient.  There 
is  too  much  evidence  in  the  history  of  the  past, 


318    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

in  the  life  around  us,  in  psychological  inquiry, 
for  anyone  to  deny  that,  and  it  is  a  fact  which 
the  greatest  and  most  far-seeing  people  have 
always  appreciated  and  accepted.  Beauty,  then, 
has  a  two-fold,  beneficent  effect,  first  physical, 
then  spiritual ;  first  as  a  means  of  sane  pleasure 
to  the  senses,  second  as  an  inspiration  to  higher 
thinking  and  better  living.  Ruskin — moralist 
that  he  was — saw  the  spiritual  effect  of  beauty 
as  supreme ;  we  are,  perhaps,  given  too  much  to 
a  consideration  merely  of  its  physical  side.  At 
the  conclusion  of  the  lecture  from  which  was 
taken  the  quotation  given  on  page  302,  there  oc- 
curs this  beautiful  passage,  which  all  of  us 
might  do  well  to  take  to  heart.  "But  there  is, 
at  least,  this  ground  for  courage,  if  not  for 
hope.  As  the  evil  spirits  of  avarice  and  luxury 
are  directly  contrary  to  art,  so,  also,  art  is  di- 
rectly contrary  to  them;  and  according  to  its 
force,  expulsive  of  them  and  medicinal  against 
them.  :  .  .  In  the  fulfillment  of  such  function, 
literally  and  practically,  here  among  men,  is  the 
only  real  use  or  pride  of  noble  architecture,  and 
on  its  acceptance  or  surrender  of  that  function 
it  depends  whether,  in  future,  the  cities  of  Eng- 
land melt  into  a  ruin  more  confused  and  ghastly 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE   319 

than  ever  storm  wasted  or  wolf  inhabited,  or 
purge  and  exalt  themselves  into  true  habita- 
tions of  men,  whose  walls  shall  be  Safety,  and 
whose  gates  shall  be  Praise." 

There  is  a  third  great  service  which  archi- 
tecture performs  for  the  commonwealth,  the  in- 
estimable service  of  "town  planning.' '  Archi- 
tecture has  never  been  satisfied  with  designing 
single  buildings.  Wherever  great  cities  have 
grown,  there  the  architect  has  striven  not  only 
to  fill  them  with  beautiful  buildings,  but  to  ar- 
range them  in  the  best  possible  manner,  and  so, 
little  by  little,  to  produce  cities  whose  design 
shall  be  the  expression,  not  of  chance,  but  of 
art.  Thus  the  imperial  Csesars  built  in  Rome 
forum  after  forum,  straightened  roads,  widened 
and  lengthened  streets.  Thus,  centuries  later, 
Henry  the  Fourth  built  in  Paris  the  Place 
Royal,  setting  an  example  which  many  of  his 
successors  followed  in  making  breathing  spaces 
and  spots  of  real  beauty  in  the  capital.  After 
the  London  fire  in  1666,  Sir  Christopher  Wren 
prepared  a  great  plan  for  the  rearrangement  of 
the  burned  portion,  with  fine  wide  streets  and 
dignified  spaces — a  plan,  unfortunately,  never 
followed. 


320     THE  ENJOYMENT  OP  ARCHITECTURE 

Slightly  different  was  the  example  of  Card- 
inal Kichelieu,  who,  in  the  first  half  of  the  Sev- 
enteenth Century,  had  his  architect,  Lemercier, 
design  an  entire  village  for  him,  to  be  built  in 
connection  with  his  chateau — a  village  which, 
though  never  finished,  exists  as  one  of  the 
earliest  examples  of  comprehensive  town  plan- 
ning. His  was  an  example  too  autocratic  and 
requiring  too  much  of  enormous  wealth  and 
power  to  result  in  emulation,  but  it  indicates  the 
tendency  always  present  to  progress  from  the 
building  and  designing  of  single  buildings  to  the 
designing  of  entire  groups. 

Our  own  country  has  an  early  example  of 
town  planning  starting  from  a  different  point 
of  view,  in  Washington,  which  was  first  laid 
out  from  the  plans  of  Major  L 'Enfant,  an  ac- 
complished Frenchman.  General  Washington 
was  far-sighted  enough  to  realize  almost  alone 
at  this  early  time  the  enormous  benefit  of  hav- 
ing the  national  capital  carefully  and  thought- 
fully planned,  and  he  was  fortunate  enough  to 
have  a  Frenchman  to  develop  the  design,  for 
the  French  have  always  had  a  superlative  skill 
in  the  solution  of  such  problems,  in  the  plac- 
ing of  important  buildings,   and  the  values 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    321 

of  vistas  and  variety.  It  is  this  French 
skill  which  has  made  Paris  the  most  beau- 
tiful of  all  capitals;  each  great  monarch,  and 
each  successive  governmental  regime,  striving 
through  its  architects  to  make  successive  im- 
provements, laying  out  new  streets,  building 
dignified  Places,  setting  beautiful  buildings 
always  in  the  most  effective  situations.  The 
new  boulevards,  the  tremendous  and  exquisite 
vistas,  like  that  up  from  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde to  the  Madeleine,  or  up  the  Champs 
Elysees  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe,  the  treat- 
ment of  the  great  Chambre  des  Deputes,  or 
the  Trocadero,  these  elements  of  high  and  in- 
spiring beauty  can  be  the  results  of  nothing  save 
dauntless  architectural  skill  and  superb  archi- 
tectural taste  backed  by  great  and  sympathetic 
power;  and  it  is  this  French  skill  and  taste 
which  has  influenced  the  beautification  of  count- 
less European  cities,  from  Berlin  to  Bucharest. 
City  planning — that  is,  the  mere  fact  of  city 
planning — is,  therefore,  no  new  thing ;  but  city 
planning  as  a  science,  with  all  the  implications 
which  it  has  to-day,  is.  The  city  beautifiers  of 
the  Eenaissance,  and  later,  even  through  the 
first  three-quarters  of  the  Nineteenth  Century, 


322     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

had  in  mind  mainly  beauty  and  dignity.  There 
was  a  great  deal  of  personal  pride,  perhaps 
even  of  personal  vanity,  in  the  improvements 
made  in  capital  cities  by  the  sovereigns  reign- 
ing there.  These  improvements  were  more  in- 
dividual than  civic  movements,  and,  however 
beautiful  their  results  now,  they  were  often  at 
the  time  indirect  results  of  terrible  cruelty  and 
oppression,  and  attended  with  all  sorts  of  scan- 
dal. The  building  of  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
for  instance,  was  probably  set  down  as  but  one 
more  of  the  extravagances  of  the  Louis  by  the 
Eevolutionists ;  they  thought  more  of  the  ter- 
rible taxation  that  had  made  it  possible  than  of 
the  blessing  it  is  to  the  modern  city.  The  city 
planner  of  those  days  was  seeking  beauty  at  any 
cost. 

It  is  the  fact  that  large  numbers  of  Americans 
confuse  this  early  city  planning  with  the  ideals 
of  modern  city  planning  which  makes  them  so 
sceptical  of  its  benefits,  and  so  suspicious  of  its 
aims.  To  them  city  planning  immediately  sug- 
gests visions  of  many-columned  monumental 
buildings  placed  on  impossibly  wide  streets,  a 
vision  with  no  very  real  appeal  to  them,  and 
one  to  be  realized  only  at  the  cost  of  wholesale 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    323 

condemnation  and  ruinous  taxes.  What  is 
needed  to  make  the  great  mass  of  us  enthusias- 
tic, over  city  planning  is  merely  a  clearer  notion 
of  what  modern  city  planning  aims  to  do. 

The  modern  movement  is  one  of  the  finest  and 
most  promising  results  of  the  socialization  of 
consciousness.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  fanciful 
schemes  with  formal  beauty  as  their  end;  it  is 
a  matter  which  touches  every  side  of  human  life 
and  endeavour,  and  is  based  on  the  sanest  and 
most  practical)  scientific  principles  we  know. 
The  city  planning  of  to-day  is,  like  the  best 
modern  architecture,  merely  an  attempt  to  solve 
all  the  practical  structural  problems  which  the 
modern  city  offers,  in  the  best  and  most  beau- 
tiful way.  It  has  as  its  aim  a  healthy,  efficient, 
and  beautiful  city,  to  be  gained  by  the  gradual 
elimination  of  as  many  of  the  mistakes  of  the 
past  as  possible  in  cities  already  existing,  and 
the  careful  planning  of  future  developments, 
with  an  eye  to  means  of  communication,  water 
supply,  drainage,  suitability  to  the  site,  and 
beauty. 

In  those  bustling,  booming  days  when  Ameri- 
can industrialism  and  commerce  were  growing 
with  mushroom  rapidity,  and  cities  were  spring- 


324    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

ing  up  all  over  the  country,  little  thought  was 
given  to  their  planning.  The  city  fathers  merely 
laid  out  a  criss-cross  of  streets,  all  at  right 
angles  to  each  other;  the  real-estate  promoters 
got  hold  of  as  much  as  they  could,  and  specula- 
tion and  chaos  were  the  inevitable  results. 
Buildings  went  up  here  and  there,  with  no  cor- 
relation, and  each  landowner  built  exactly  what 
he  pleased,  wherever  he  pleased.  Fads  and 
fashions  boomed  now  one  portion  of  the  town, 
now  another ;  residential  areas  became  business 
areas ;  business  areas  faded  and  died  away  into 
emptiness ;  factories  were  built  in  places  where 
they  spoiled  promising  residential  developments. 
Cut-throat  speculation  and  competition  followed 
no  ideal,  recognized  no  checks.  The  resultant 
chaotic  inefficiency  of  such  a  city  is  amazing, 
and  it  is  a  characteristic  all  too  universal  in 
this  country.  Under  any  such  anarchy  real  es- 
tate becomes  a  questionable  investment,  for 
real  estate  values  soar  and  die  unaccountably. 
The  scattering  of  business  and  manufacturing 
makes  a  great  deal  of  trucking  necessary  that 
might  easily  have  been  avoided.  It  necessitates 
an  endless  loss  of  time  and  money  in  the  ordi- 
nary run  of  the  day's  work. 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  325 

Furthermore,  when  once  business  and  resi- 
dential areas  have  become  somewhat  settled, 
the  American  policy  of  allowing  anyone  to  do 
what  he  wants  with  his  property  enables  owners 
to  build  the  great  many-floored  skyscrapers  of 
our  cities,  buildings  which  are  often  unsound 
economically,  for  so  few  of  them  earn  an  income 
large  enough  to  justify  their  cost,  and  which 
often  add  immeasurably  to  the  congestion  of  the 
streets  whose  light  and  air  they  obstruct,  and 
to  the  fearful  crowding  of  all  means  of  commun- 
ication. 

Little  by  little  order  is  beginning  to  grow  out 
of  this  chaos  of  our  American  cities.  Many  of 
them  have  permanent  town-planning  boards, 
which  are  continually  looking  for  places  where 
changes  are  necessary,  taking  traffic  censuses 
to  find  out  by  actual  count  where  street  conges- 
tion occurs,  and  trying  to  find  means  of  remedy ; 
pressing  all  sorts  of  housing  and  building  re- 
forms ;  plotting  new  transit  facilities  so  as  best 
to  serve  the  whole  city,  and  planning  new  devel- 
opments with  an  eye  to  the  future.  They  are 
considering  always  the  acquisition  of  new  park 
spaces,  and  planning  park  systems  in  such  a 
way  that  every  portion  of  the  city  may  have  its. 


326    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

share  of  greenness  and  open  sky ;  they  are  striv- 
ing to  meet  the  insistent  demands  of  hordes  of 
children  for  ever  more  numerous  playgrounds. 
Moreover,  the  city  planners  have  a  keen  eye  to 
the  connection  of  the  city  with  the  outside  world. 
They  note  the  position  of  its  railroads  or  its 
main  highways,  and  try  to  arrange  for  manufac- 
turing districts  and  wholesale  markets  in  con- 
nection with  terminal  schemes.  If  the  city  is 
on  the  ocean,  or  a  navigable  river  or  lake,  they 
attempt  to  develop  its  port  facilities  in  the  most 
efficient  possible  way,  coupling  them  up  with 
railroad  or  warehouse  or  market,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  arranging  some  means  by  which  the 
population  of  the  city  may  enjoy  the  peace  and 
quietness  and  cool  breezes  which  large  bodies  of 
water  always  produce.  In  a  word,  modern  city 
planning  is  concerned  with  every  single  fea- 
ture of  city  life,  housing,  water  supply,  food 
supply,  drainage,  railroads,  port  facilities, 
amusements,  recreation,  means  of  transit, 
streets,  parks,  and  so  on;  so  that  there  is  not 
one  of  us  but  derives  benefit  from  the  city  plan- 
ner's work. 

But  because  architecture  can  never  forget 
that  it  is  an  art,  city  planning  can  never  lose 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    327 

sight  of  aesthetic  values,  and  every  question  is 
considered  from  a  double  viewpoint.  The  good 
city  planner  forgets  neither  his  sewers  nor  his 
views  and  vistas,  and  he  designs  his  parks  as 
well  as  his  docks,  for  only  by  the  combining 
of  the  useful  and  the  beautiful  can  the  ideal 
city  arise. 

For  the  ideal  city  has  begun  to  arise,  out  of 
the  grimness  of  our  thoughtless  ill-designed 
past,  like  a  phoenix.  The  work  is  going  on 
quietly,  and  still  slowly,  for  it  is  hampered  by 
the  jealous  individualism  of  our  conservative 
democracy,  which  -can  see  in  movements  for  the 
common  weal  only  attacks  on  its  liberty.  Never- 
theless, it  has  made  great  strides  which  have 
proved  its  success.  A  drive  around  the  park 
system  of  Chicago  is  a  revelation;  the  busy, 
happy  playgrounds,  the  great  parks,  the 
miles  of  parkway  thrill  even  the  coolest  ob- 
server. So  the  gradual  changes  in  Boston, 
the  development  of  the  Fenway,  of  the  Charles 
Eiver  basin,  of  the  Metropolitan  parks  outside 
the  city,  of  the  increasing  use  of  the  great  water- 
front, are  but  symptoms  of  a  movement  which 
is  destined  ultimately  to  permeate  the  whole 
land.     Cincinnati,  Detroit,  Minneapolis,  Madi- 


328    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

son — they  are  all  beginning  to  appreciate  the 
virtues  of  a  planned  city,  and  are  striving  in 
some  measure  to  realize  the  true  ideals  of  what 
a  city  might  be. 

And  it  is  right  that  our  American  cities 
should  do  this,  ever  with  more  increasing  speed, 
and  in  more  increasing  numbers.  The  founders 
of  some  of  our  older  cities  had  a  wisdom  that 
we  are  beginning  to  appreciate  only  now;  for 
in  their  city  plans  they  strove  to  embody  all 
they  knew  of  what  a  city  needed.  Penn's  orig- 
inal plan  for  Philadelphia,  for  instance,  called 
for  one  parked  square  to  every  five!  or  six 
blocks.  Hq  realized  the  value  of  open  spaces 
and  green  in  cities,  and  it  is  a  tragedy  hard  to 
understand  that  his  plan  and  his  ideal  were  so 
soon  forgotten.  It  is  equally  strange  and 
equally  unfortunate  that  Major  L'Enf ant's 
plan  for  Washington,  with  its  radial  streets  and 
its  squares  and  circles,  exerted  so  little  influence 
on  the  design  of  later  streets,  for  the  dreary 
monotony  of  miles  on  miles  of  checker-boarded 
streets,  those  running  in  one  way  all  numbered, 
all  the  others  lettered,  is  extremely  fatiguing; 
it  produces  a  city  without  variety  or  opportuni- 
ties  of  true   self-expression.     Better   by   far 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    329 

the  cow  paths  of  Boston  than  the  gridiron  of 
Lincoln  or  Omaha ! 

The  American  cities  have  still  far  to  go  be- 
fore the  ideal  is  realized,  bnt  we  may  well  be 
glad  that  a  beginning  has  been  made.  There 
are  three  chief  objections  which  obstruct  its 
realization.  One  is  the  innate  conservatism  of 
a  powerful  portion  of  the  population,  the  second 
is  the  refusal  of  the  people  to  accept  the  prin- 
ciple of  "excess  condemnation,' '  and  the  third 
is  the  lamentable  inefficiency  of  many  of  our  city 
administrations.  The  first  objection  is  gradu- 
ally disintegrating  under  the  effects  of  educa- 
tion ;  the  second  is  still  powerful.  By  the  prin- 
ciple of  excess  condemnation,  a  city  which  de- 
sires to  make  any  improvement  may  condemn 
not  only  the  land  actually  required  by  the  im- 
provement, but  an  additional  strip  all  around, 
which  it  may  either  sell,  or  lease,  or  develop  in 
some  other  way  when  the  improvement  has  been 
made.  That  is,  it  permits  the  city  to  help  to 
finance  any  improvements  by  the  actual  profits 
which  the  improvement  produces,  and  at  the 
same  time  it  gives  the  city  a  certain  amount  of 
jurisdiction  over  the  character  and  artistic  style 
of  buildings  to  be  built  adjoining  it.  This  power 


330     THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

at  once  enables  a  city  to  do  infinitely  more  than 
our  American  cities  are  at  the  present  capable 
of  doing;  and  it  is  the  secret  behind  the  great 
achievements  of  European  city  planning  com- 
pared with  our  own.  The  wonder  is  not  that  we 
are  behind  Europe  in  city  building  and  city 
planning,  the  wonder  is,  that  without  this  great 
financial  and  aesthetic  aid  our  cities  have  ac- 
complished as  much  as  they  have. 

There  is  still  one  minor  feature  of  city  plan- 
ning to  be  considered  briefly,  a  feature  with  re- 
gard to  which  many  of  our  architects  may  be 
found  wanting.  That  is  the  matter  of  the  har- 
mony of  city  architecture.  Each  architect  is 
tempted  to  design  a  city  building  purely  with 
regard  to  itself,  to  his  tastes,  and  to  his  client's 
needs.  The  result  is  the  hodge  podge  of  our 
American  city  streets,  with  their  jagged  sky 
lines  and  their  warring  details.  In  some  ways 
this  condition  is  the  inevitable  result  of  the  un- 
certain condition  of  affairs  in  our  cities,  for  no 
man  will  spend  money  and  time  and  sacrifice 
personal  whims  to  make  his  buildings  harmon- 
ize with  the  buildings  on  either  side,  only  to 
have  his  neighbours'  buildings  torn  down  and 
replaced  by  others  utterly  different.    Under  a 


NEW   OFFICE   BUILDING,    NEW   YORK   CITY 


An  all  too  rare  example  of  a  building  designed  with  regard  to  its  neighbours. 
In  style  it  recalls  the  house  at  the  left;  by  its  use  of  restful  plain  surfaces  it  serves 
as  a  transition  to  the  church  at  the  right. 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  331 

saner  system  which  guaranteed  some  prospect 
of  permanent  character  to  a  specific  locality,  by 
limiting  building  heights,  or  by  specifying  the 
type  of  building  to  be  built,  we  might  see  more 
regard  paid  to  architectural  harmony  between 
neighbouring  buildings.  The  quiet  Georgian 
houses  in  parts  of  west  central  London,  with 
their  dignified  pilastered  fronts  facing  on  quiet 
squares,  are  delightfully  restful  in  effect;  so 
are  places  in  our  own  country,  like  Forest  Hills 
Gardens  on  Long  Island,  or  some  of  the  newer 
suburbs  of  Baltimore  or  Philadelphia,  just  be- 
cause in  them  there  has  been  a  definite  and  suc- 
cessful attempt  to  obtain  an  architectural  har- 
mony, a  harmony  possible  only  because  in  every 
one  of  these  cases  some  measure  of  permanence 
for  the  building  was  guaranteed. 

This  harmony  is  too  beautiful  and  valuable 
an  ideal  to  be  entirely  abandoned,  however, 
under  any  condition.  The  Plate  opposite  page 
330  is  an  illustration  of  a  remarkably  successful 
attempt  to  obtain  harmony  in  New  York  City, 
to  mediate  between  the  exuberant  Francis  the 
First  style  of  the  house  on  the  left,  and  the 
strong  Gothic  of  the  church  on  the  right.  The 
designer  of  these  two  office  buildings  might  well 


332    THE  ENJOYMENT  OF  ARCHITECTURE 

have  given  up  the  task,  but  he  persevered  and 
produced  a  finished  product,  not  only  beautiful 
in  itself,  but  in  harmony  with  the  divergent 
buildings  on  either  side.  It  is  an  experiment 
whose  success  justifies  more  imitation  than  it 
has  received,  and  we  owe  a  great  deal  of  credit 
to  both  owner  and  architect  for  realizing  the 
true  responsibilities  of  city  building  in  a  way 
that  is  all  to  uncommon.  Their  archtitecture 
reveals  that  they,  at  least,  have  attained  in  some 
measure  a  civic  consciousness. 

Architecture,  then,  has  been  true  to  life,  for 
architecture  has  reflected  the  socialization  of 
consciousness,  which  is  such  an  outstanding 
fact  of  these  days.  And  not  only  has  architec- 
ture reflected  this  movement,  but  it  has  been 
of  unique  service  to  it  in  three  different  ways. 
Architecture  has  been  able  to  fill  the  practical 
needs  of  the  people ;  architecture  has  been  able 
to  give  us  ideals  of  better  and  finer  cities  than 
any  we  know ;  architecture  has  been  the  creator 
of  an  infinite  amount  of  concrete  and  palpable 
beauty  to  enrich  the  popular  life.  Engineering 
can  build  us  factories  of  a  kind,  and  schools  and 
churches  of  a  kind ;  sanitary  science  can  keep  us 
in  bodily  health;  painting  and  sculpture  ancl 


THE  SOCIAL  VALUE  OF  ARCHITECTURE    333 

music  can  give  us  the  poignant  delight  of 
beauty;  but  it  is  the  art  of  architecture  alone 
which  takes  the  engineering  and  the  sanitation, 
and  all  the  rich  beauty  of  the  past,  and  is  able 
to  synthesize  them  into  noble  buildings  and 
noble  cities  which  are  alike  mechanically  effi- 
cient, and  spiritually  inspirations  for  all  time. 


EPILOGUE 

You  will  recall  that  it  has  been  stated  sev- 
eral times  that  architecture  was  an  emo- 
tional art.  It  is  always  necessary  to  keep  this 
in  mind,  for  since  architecture  excites  princi- 
pally the  more  formless  and  vaguer  emotions, 
there  is  a  strong  temptation  to  forget  the  emo- 
tional appeal  altogether,  and  to  regard  it  as 
something  purely  intellectual.  Any  such  atti- 
tude^ to  be  avoided,  as  it  will  lead  to  an  appre- 
ciation of  architecture  at  best  one-sided,  and 
true  appreciation  is  never  that.  A  true  appre- 
ciation of  architecture  can  only  come  to  one  who 
studies  it  with  an  eager  sympathy,  and  with  all 
sides  of  his  nature  alert  and  receptive.  He  must 
blind  himself  neither  to  the  intellectual  nor  the 
emotional  aspect  of  the  art :  he  should  consider 
structure,  planning,  and  abstract  beauty,  but  at 
the  same  time  he  should  preserve  an  attitude 

335 


336  EPILOGUE 

keenly  alive  to  the  emotional  message  which  the 
art  may  bring.  The  value  of  such  an  attitude  is 
more  than  personal,  for  it  will  react  inevitably 
upon  the  standard  of  popular  taste,  and  thus 
eventually  upon  the  art  of  architecture  itself; 
and  the  greater  the  number  of  persons  who 
adopt  such  a  thoughtful,  sensitive  attitude,  the 
sooner  the  day  will  come  when  architecture 
shall  regain  the  throne  due  to  what  Eeginald 
Blomfield  so  aptly  terms  the  "Mistress  Art." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

This  is  not  intended  as  a  comprehensive  bibliography 
of  the  subject  of  architecture  as  a  whole,  or  any  of 
the  branches  of  architecture.  It  is  merely  intended 
as  a  list  of  those  books  which  will  be  most  generally 
helpful  to  one  who  desires  to  enter  upon  a  further 
study  of  this  fascinating  art.  More  complete  bibliog- 
raphies will  be  found  in  many  of  the  works  listed 
below. 

GENERAL 

Blomfield,  R.  A. — The  Mistress  Art.  London,  Edward  Ar- 
nold, 1908. 

Gaudet,  J. — Elements  et  Theorie  de  V Architecture.  Paris, 
Librarie  de  la  Construction  Moderne,  1902. 

(This  is  the  most  complete  and  encyclopaedic  book  on 
the  entire  subject  of  architecture;  it  is  somewhat  techni- 
cal, but  is  copiously  illustrated.) 

Handbuch  der  Architektur. — Stuttgart  and  Darmstadt,  Ar- 
nold Bergstrasser  and  J.  P.  Diehl,  1883-1907. 

Longfellow,  W.  P.  P. — The  Column  and  the  Arch.  New 
York,  Chas.  Scribner's  Sons,  1899. 

Robinson,  J.  B.  Architectural  Composition.  New  York,  D. 
Van  Nostrand  &  Co.,  1907. 

Ruskin,  J. — Lectures  on  Architecture,  Seven  Lamps  of  Archi- 
tecture, Stones  of  Venice.  All  of  these  have  been  re- 
printed frequently. 

Sturgis,  R.— The  Appreciation  of  Architecture.  New  York, 
The  Baker  and  Taylor  Co.,  1903. 

Van  Pelt,  J  .—Essentials  of  Composition  as  Applied  to  Art. 
New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  1902. 

Viollet  le  duc,  E.  E.— Discourses  on  Architecture.  Trans- 
lated by  Henry  Van  Brunt.  Boston,  James  R.  Osgood  & 
Co.,  1875. 

337 


338  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Wallis,  F.  E. — How  to  Know  Architecture.  New  York  and 
London,  Harper  and  Brothers,  1910. 

HISTORIES 

Fergusson,  J. — A  History  of  Architecture  in  All  Countries. 
(Edited  by  R.  P.  Spiers.)     London,  John  Murray,  1893. 

Fletcher,  B.  and  B.  F.— A  History  of  Architecture  on  the 
Comparative  Method.    London,  B.  T.  Bats  ford,  1905. 

Hamlin,  A.  D.  F. — History  of  Architecture  (Revised  Edition). 
New  York  and  London,  Longmans  &  Co.,  1915. 

Simpson,  F.  M. — A  History  of  Architectural  Development. 
London  and  New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  1911. 

Slatham. — A  Short  Critical  History  of  Architecture.  Lon- 
don, B.  T.  Batsford,  1913. 

Sturgis,  R.— History  of  Architecture  (Continued  by  A.  L. 
Frothingham).  New  York,  The  Baker  &  Taylor  Co., 
1916.  European  Architecture.  New  York,  The  Macmil- 
lan  Co.,  1896. 

BOOKS  DEALING  WITH  SPECIAL  PERIODS. 

One  will  note  a  paucity  of  works  on  modern  archi- 
tecture. For  information  with  regard  to  modern  buildings, 
the  files  of  the  architectural  periodicals  are  the  best  and 
almost  the  only  source. 

Adams,  H. — Mont  Saint  Michel  and  Chartres.  Boston  and 
New  York,  Houghton  Mifflin  Co.,  1913. 

This  is  a  most  readable  and  enlightening  work  on  the 
mediaeval  spirit. 
Anderson,  W.  J. — The  Architecture  of  the  Renaissance  in 

Italy.    London,  B.  T.  Batsford,  1909. 
Anderson,  W.  J.   and   Spiers,  R.   P. — The  Architecture   of 

Greece  and  Rome.    London,  B.  T.  Batsford,  1903. 
Belcher,  J.,  and  Macartney,  M.  E. — Later  Renaissance  Ar- 
chitecture in  England.    London,  B.  T.  Batsford,  1903. 
Blomfield,  R.  A. — A  History  of  Renaissance  Architecture  in 

England,  1500-1800.  London,  George  Bell  &  Sons,  1897. 
Bond,  F. — English  Cathedrals  Illustrated.  London,  G.  Newnes, 
1900.  Gothic  Architecture  in  England.  London,  B.  T. 
Batsford,  1905.  An  Introduction  to  English  Church  Ar- 
chitecture. London,  H.  Milford,  1913. 
Chandler,  J.  E.—The  Colonial  Architecture  of  Maryland, 
Pennsylvania  and  Virginia.  Boston,  Bates,  Kimball  and 
Guild,  1892. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  339 

Eberlein,  H.  D. — The  Architecture  of  Colonial  America.  Bos- 
ton, Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  1915. 

Hamlin,  A.  D.  F. — History  of  Ornament ;  Ancient  and  Medie- 
val.   New  York,  The  Century  Co.,  1916. 

Holme,  O. — Old  English  Mansions.  (Special  Spring  Number 
of  the  International  Studio,  1915.)  London,  The  Inter- 
national Studio,  1915. 

In  addition  to  this  number,  the  International  Studio  has 
published  several  other  special  numbers  dealing  with  vari- 
ous phases  of  English  domestic  architecture.  All  of  these, 
which  are  obtainable  at  any  good  library,  are  of  great 
value. 

Jackson,  T.  G. — Byzantine  and  Romanesque  Architecture. 
Cambridge  University  Press,  1913.  Gothic  Architecture. 
The  same  publisher,  1916. 

Lanciani,  R.  A. — Ancient  Rome  in  the  Light  of  Recent  Dis- 
coveries. Boston  and  New  York,  Houghton,  Mifflin  & 
Co.,  1889.  The  Golden  Days  of  the  Renaissance  in  Rome. 
The  same  publisher,  1906.  New  Tales  of  Old  Rome.  The 
same  publisher,  1901.  Pagan  and  Christian  Rome.  The 
same  publisher,  1893.  Ruins  and  Excavations  of  Ancient 
Rome.    The  same  publisher,  1897. 

Longfellow,  W.  P.  P.  and  Frothingham,  A.  L. — Cyclopaedia 
of  Architecture  in  Italy,  Greece  and  the  Levant.  New 
York,  Chas.  Scribner's  Sons,  1895. 

Marquand,  A. — Greek  Architecture.  New  York,  The  Mac- 
millan  Co.,  1909. 

Mau,  A.  (translated  by  Kelcey). — Pompeii.  New  York,  The 
Macmillan  Co.,  1902. 

Moore,  C.  H. — Development  and  Character  of  Gothic  Archi- 
tecture.   New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  1890. 

Nash,  J. — The  Mansions  of  England  in  the  Olden  Time. 
(Special  Winter  Number  of  the  International  Studio, 
1905-6.)     London,  The  International  Studio,  1906. 

Perrot,  G.  and  Chipiez,  C. — Histoire  de  I'art  dans  Vantiquite. 
Paris,  Hachette  et  Cie.,  1882-1914. 

Polley,  G.  H. — The  Architecture,  Interiors  and  Furniture  of 
the  American  Colonies  During  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
Boston,  G.  H.  Polley  &  Co.,  1914. 
Porter,  A.  K. — Medieval  Architecture.  New  York,  The  Baker 
and  Taylor  Co.,  1909. 

(This  book  contains  an  exhaustive  bibliography  cover- 


340  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

ing  the  entire  ground  of  Romanesque  and  Gothic  archi- 
tecture.) 

Prentice,  A.  N. — Renaissance  Architecture  and  Ornament  in 
Spain.    London,  B.  T.  Bats  ford,  1893. 

Saladin,  H. — Manuel  d'Art  Musulman.    Vol.  I,  Architecture. 
(Vol.  II,  Les  arts  practiques  et  industricls,  by  G.  Migeon.) 

Scott,  G. — The  Architecture  of  Humanism. 

Stuart,  J.  and  Revett,  N. — The  Antiquities  of  Athens.    Lon- 
don, J.  Taylor,  J.  Haberkorn,  and  others,  1762-1816. 

Viollet-le-duc,  E.  E. — Dictionnaire  Raisonne  de  V Architec- 
ture Francaise.     Paris,  V.  Morel  et  Cie,  1876. 

(Despite  its  name,  this  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
architectural  books  ever  published.  Its  myriad  illustra- 
tions are  a  veritable  mine  of  information  and  delight.) 

Ward,  W.   H. — French  Renaissance  Architecture,  1495-1830. 
London,  B.  T.  Batsford,  1915. 


Index 


A. 

Agra,  Taj   Mahal  at 89 

Albany,    Cathedral 118 

State  Education  Building  at 199,  203 

Amiens,  Cathedral 8,  48,  56,  62 

Cathedral  (plan,  illustration) 248 

Arc  de  Triomphe,  Paris 321 

Architecture, 

Appeal   of 3ff 

Decorative   Materials   of I37ff 

Effect   on    Life. 3i5ff 

Laws  of  Form  in 2off 

Materials  of 73ft 

Social  Value  of 298ff 

Architrave 95 

Aristotle   31 

Athens, 

Monument  of  Lysikrates 25 

Parthenon  8,  42,  173 

Theseum  42 

Axis    228ff 

B. 

Bacon,  Francis 103 

Balance 4iff 

Baltimore,  Suburbs  of 331 

Beauty,  Social  Effect  of 3i5ff 

Birmingham 308 

Blois,  Chateau  (cornice,  illustration) 159 

Boston  329 

Park  Development 327 

Public  Library 22,  66,  69,  132,  151,  243 

Brooklyn    Bridge 21 

Brunelleschi  '/   jgo 

Bureau  of  Printing  and  Engraving,  Washington,  D.  C.....42 

Burghley  House j, IG7 

341 


342  INDEX 

G 

Cambridge,  England,  King's  College  Chapel  in 101,  131 

Cambridge,  Mass.,  Craigie  House  in 46 

Cantoria,  from  the  Cathedral,  Florence 193 

Capitals, 

Early  Cypriote  Ionic  Capital  (illustration) 275 

French  Gothic  Capitals   (illustration) 179 

from  Southwell  Minster   (illustration) 177 

Capitol,  Washington,  D.  C 8,  32,  35,  46,  59,  67,  70,  89,  286 

Missouri  State,  Jefferson  City,  Mo.  (plan,  illustration)  .236 

of  Virginia,  Richmond,  Va 286 

Carcassonne,  Cathedral  of  St.  Nazaire 101 

(illustration)   100 

Ceilings 117ft 

Centre  of  Interest  (Climax) 66ff 

Chambre  des  Deputes,  Paris 321 

Champs   filysees,  Paris 321 

Charles  VIII 279 

Charlottesville,  University  of  Virginia 286 

Chartres,  Cathedral 48,  50 

Chenonceaux,  Chateau 87 

Chicago,  111.,  Park  System  of 327 

Chimneys  . . .  .^ iosff 

Cincinnati,  Ohio 327 

City  Planning 3i9ff 

Climax  (Center  of  Interest) 66ff 

Coleridge,  S.  T.   (quoted) 89 

Cologne,  Cathedral 45 

Columbia  University,  New  York  City 87 

Library 22,  89 

Colosseum,  Rome 21,  56,  199,  202 

Complexity   (Variety) 37 

Constantinople 97 

Santa  (Hagia)  Sophia 89,  114,  127,  176 

Cornice i56ff 

Classic  (illustration) 147 

of  Wing  of  Francis  I  at  Blois  (illustration) 159 

D. 

Decorative  Use  of  Structural  Members I98ff 

Detroit,  Mich 327 

Dome 87ff,  I25ff 

(illustration)   130 

Doors 9iff 

Spanish 97,  212 

Ducal  Palace,  Venice 116 

Duncan  House,  Newport,  R.  1 166 


INDEX  343 


£cole  des  Beaux  Arts 293 

Eddy,  Mary  Baker  G.,  Memorial 169 

Egypt,  Mouldings  used  in 144 

Decoration  in 1/0 

Ely,  Cathedral 150 

Erectheum,  Athens 150 

Essen,  Krupp  Villages  near 311 

Ethical  Culture  Meeting  House,  New  York  City 80 

Excess    Condemnation 329 

Expositions,  San  Diego 9& 

San  Francisco 23 

F. 

Fiesole,  Mino  da 180 

Floors     1  i6ff 

Florence,  Cantoria  from  Cathedral  at 193 

Palazzo  Davanzati 120 

Pazzi  Chapel 180 

Riccardi  Palace 157 

San  Miniato 118 

Forest  Hills  Gardens,  L.  1 331 

Form,  Laws  of 29ft" 

Francis  1 279,  280,  281,  282,  293 

Wing  of,  at  Blois  (illustration) 159 

G. 

Gambrel  Roofs   (illustration) 84 

Glasgow 308 

Gothic  Ribbed  Vault  (illustration) 129 

Grand  Central  Station,  New  York  City 214 

Greek  Style,  Development  of 272$ 

H. 

Hampstead  Garden  Suburb 311 

Hampton  Court  Palace  (near  London) 77,  118 

Harmony,  Law  of 63ff 

Harvard  House,  Stratford  on  Avon  (illustration) 102 

Henry  IV 281,  319 

Hipped  Roofs   (illustration) 86 

Housing  Conditions 3o6ff 

Improvements  in 308 

I. 

Ionic  Cypriote  Capital  (illustration) 275 


344  INDEX 

J. 

Jefferson  City,  Mo.,  State  Capitol  Plan 236 

Jefferson,  Thomas 286,  288 

Jones,  Inigo 285 

K. 

Karnak,  Temples  at 21 

Temple  gateway  at  (illustration) 145 

Kennebunk,  Maine— Old  House  at  (illustrated) 84 

King's  College  Chapel,  Cambridge 101,  131 

Krupp  Villages  (near  Essen) 311 


Leeds   308 

Lcmercier  320 

L'Enfant,  Major 286,  320,  328 

Les  Invalides,  Paris 127 

Lincoln,  Cathedral 130,  150 

Lincoln,    Neb 329 

Lion  Gate,  Mycenae 92 

London 36,  308 

Georgian  Houses  in 331 

Hampton  Court  Palace 77,  118 

Henry  VII  Chapel,  Westminster  Abbey 131 

National  Gallery 35>  48,  88 

St.  Paul's  Cathedral 89,  127,  132,  198 

Westminster  Abbey 21 

Westminster  Hall 1 18 

Lord  and  Taylor,  Store,  New  York  City 104 

Library,  Boston 22,  66,  69,  132,  151,  243 

New  York  City  L 123 

Louis    XI 281 

Louis  XII 279 

Louis  XVI 293 

Louvre,  Paris 46,  70,  199,  203,  204 

M. 

Madeleine,  Paris 321 

Madison,    Wis 327 

Manhattan  Island  (silhouette  of) . 12,  15 

Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  New  York  City 46 

Metropolitan  Tower,   New  York   City 91 

Michelangelo   180 

Minneapolis,  Minn 327 

Art  Museum 46 

Missouri.  State  Capitol  (plan,  illustration) 236 


INDEX  345 

Monticello,  Va 47 

Monument  of  Lysikrates,  Athens 25 

Mosques,  Doors  of 97 

Mouldings    141& 

Illustration  143 

Decorated 152 

Decorated    (illustration) 153 

Mycenae,  Lion  Gate  at 92 

N. 

National  Gallery,  London 35,  48,  88 

New  Haven,  Conn.,  House  in  (illustration) 232 

Yale  University  Dining  Hall 118 

Newport,  R.  I.,  Duncan  House  in 166 

Newton  Hall,  near  Cambridge,  England  (illustration) 86 

New  York,  silhouette  of 12,  15 

Brooklyn  Bridge 21 

Columbia  University 87 

Columbia  University  Library 22,  89 

Ethical  Culture  Meeting  House 80 

Grand  Central  Station 214 

Lord  and  Taylor  Store 104 

Metropolitan   Museum  of  Art 46 

Metropolitan    Tower 91 

Pennsylvania  Station  (interior  of) 25,  119 

Post  Office 42,  43,  47,  67,  70,  203 

Public    Library 123 

Saint  Patrick's  Cathedral 45,  47 

Saint  Paul's  Church 35 

Trinity  Church 287 

Union  Theological  Seminary  Chapel 118 

New  York,  State  Education  Building  (Albany) 199,  203 

Notre  Dame,  Cathedral  of,  Paris 24,  45,  77,  101,  163,  217 

O. 

Omaha 329 

Opera,   Paris 242 

Ornament I37ff 

Amount  of 207ff 

Kind  of 2i2ff 

Non-representational   i4off 

Placing  of 2096? 

Representational    i66ff 

Size  of 2i3ff 

Suitability  to  Material i87ff 


346  INDEX 

Suitability  to   Medium 190ft 

Suitability  to  Purpose  of  Building 191  ff 

Terra  Cotta 195** 


Palladio  287 

Palazzo  Davanzati,  Florence 120 

Vendramini,  Venice 42,  47 

Pantheon,  Paris 127 

Pantheon,  Rome 94>  126,  127 

Paris, 

Arc  de  Triomphe 321 

Chambre  des  Deputes 321 

Champs    £lysees 321 

£cole  des  Beaux  Art 293 

Les    Invalides 127 

Louvre 46,  70,  199,  203,  204 

Madeleine  321 

Notre  Dame,  Cathedral  of 24,  45,  77,  101,  163,  217 

Opera 242 

Pantheon 127 

Place  de  la  Concorde 321,  322 

Sorbonne 88 

Saint  Eustache 65 

Trocadero 321 

Parthenon,  Athens 8,  42,  173 

Pater,  Walter  (quoted,  School  of  Giorgione) 18 

Pazzi  Chapel,  Florence 180 

Pendentive    (illustration) 130 

Penn,  Sir  W 328 

Pennsylvania  Station,  New  York  City 25,  119 

Philadelphia   69,  328 

Centennial  Exposition,  1876 288 

Suburbs  of 331 

Piers   133ft 

Place  de  la  Concorde,  Paris 321,  322 

Planning 22off 

Amiens  Cathedral  (illustration) 248 

City   319ft 

House  in  New  Haven  (illustration) 232 

Missouri   State   Capitol   (illustration) 236 

Steel,  Effect  of 2456* 

Washington,  D.  C,  Plan  of  Major  L'Enfant 328 

Portsmouth,  N.  H 69 

Warner  House 85 

Post  Office,  New  York  City 42,  43,  47,  67,  70,  203 


INDEX  347 

Proportion 6iff 

Public  Library, 

Boston 22,  66,  69,  132,  151,  243 

New  York  City 123 


Rheims,  Cathedral 21 

Rhythm 55^ 

Riccardi   Palace,   Florence 157 

Richelieu,  Cardinal 320 

Village  of 320 

Richmond,  Virginia,  Old  Capitol  at 286 

Robbia,  Andrea  della 197 

Luca  della 193,  197 

Rome,  Colosseum 21,  56,  199,  202 

Pantheon   94,  126,  127 

Santa  Maria  della  Pace 134,  135 

St.  Peter's. 24,  25,  68,  89,  127,  132,  200,  213,  214,  215,  216,  218 

Tabularium    199 

Villa  Madama 132 

Roofs 8iff     r 

Gambrel  (illustration) 84  -/ 

Hipped     (illustration) 86 

Rouen,    Cathedral 50 

Ruskin,  John 138,  167,  220 

(quoted)  302,  303,  3*8 


Saint  Eustache,  Paris 65 

Saint  Mark's,  Venice 24 

Saint  Nazaire,  Carcassonne 101 

(illustration)    IOO 

Saint  Patrick's,  New  York  City 45,  47 

Saint  Paul's,  London 89,  127,  132,  198 

Saint  Paul's,  New  York 35 

Saint  Peter's,  Rome 

24,  25,  68,  89,  127,  132,  200,  213,  214,  215,  216,  218 

Salem,  Mass 69 

San  Diego  Exposition 98 

Railroad    Station 295 

San  Francisco  Exposition 23 

San   Miniato,   Florence 118 

Santa  Maria  dei  Miracoli,  Venice 114 

Santa  Maria  della  Pace,  Rome 134,  135 

Santa  (Hagia)   Sophia,  Constantinople 89,  114,  127,  176 

Schlaun,  Johann  Conrad 293 


348  INDEX 

Settignano,  Desiderio  da 180 

Shirley,  Virginia 47 

Sorbonne,  Paris 88 

Southwell,  Minster  (Capitals,  illustration) 177 

Springfield,  Mass.,  Court  House '. 235 

Steel,  Effect  of,  on  Planning 245ft",  270 

Stevenson,   Robert  Louis 58 

Stonehenge 37 

Stratford  on  Avon,  Harvard  House  (illustration) 102 

Style, 

Development  of,  American 284ft" 

Development  of,  French  Renaissance 279ft 

Development   of,  Greek 272ft 

Development  of,  Roman 277ft 

Effect  of  Steel  on 270 

Meaning  of 2636? 

Suburbs 3ioff 

of  Baltimore 331 

Hampstead  Garden 311 

Model 311 

of  Philadelphia 331 

Symonds,  J.  A.  (quoted) 57 

T. 

Tabularium,  Rome 199 

Taj  Mahal,  Agra 89 

Temple  of  Theseus  (Theseum),  Athens 42 

Thebes,  Temples   at 21 

Terra    Cotta 195^ 

Tracery   101 

Trinity  Church,   New  York  City 287 

Trocadero,  Paris 321 

U. 

Union  Theological  Seminary  Chapel,  New  York  City 118 

Unity 3iff 

V. 

Value,  Social,  of  Architecture 298ft" 

Variety    (Complexity) 37# 

Vaults  123ft 

Gothic  Ribbed   (illustration) 129 

of  King's  College  Chapel,  Cambridge 131 

Vendramini  Palace,  Venice 42,  47,  61,  200 


INDEX  349 

Venice,  Saint  Mark's 24 

Santa  Maria  dei  Miracoli 114 

Vendramini  Palace 42,  47,  61,  200 

Villa  Madama,  Rome . 132 

Virginia,  Old  State  Capitol,  Richmond 286 

University  of,  Charlottesville 286 

W. 

Walls 75ff 

Interior  Treatment  of 1 13ft 

Warner  House,  Portsmouth,  N.  H 85 

Washington,  D.  C,  Bureau  of  Printing  and  Engraving 42 

Capitol 8,  32,  35,  46,  59,  67,  70,  89,  286 

Housing  in 312 

Major  L'Enfant's  Plan  of 286,  320,  328 

White    House 59 

Washington,   George 286,  320,  328 

Westminster  Abbey 21 

Hall    1 18 

Henry  VII  Chapel 131 

White  House,  Washington,  D.  C 59 

Windows    o8ff 

Wood  Panelling 114,  115 

Wool  worth  Building,  New  York  City 91 

Wren,  Sir  Christopher 285,  319 

(quoted)   296 


Yale  University,  Dining  Hall,  New  Haven,  Conn 118 

York,  Minster 101 


\ 


Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


20Feb'5' 


23 


5bBP 


\6Bec 


.■»56?W 


0ct'53CB 


RE< 


o 

-J  cp 
>-  tr> 
£      i 

gj   » 

ZS 

q: 
ui 


in 

or 

UJ 
CI 

u 


-50pp     i      REC'D  LD    | 
ltf»G|-    DEC3    1956 

MAY  7   19S3 

— «  in      lit.CZ  ( 


CJ> 


s 


a: 


SEP  2* 

1N0V54Y11      I^-oLO 


a:       <  > 


fCTl819! 


jun  imif 


EC'D  LD   MAY  3  1 72  -7  PM  5  9 


CJ> 


2". 


LD21-100m-9,'48(B399sl6)476 


